The Power of The Right Words
by mlle-mystique
Summary: After Sarah defeats the Labyrinth problems arise that Jareth is powerless to solve. Soon Jareth's entire realm is threatened by a deep evil that only Sarah can conquer. Can Jareth convince her to come back, and perhaps stay forever? CHAP. 21 UP FINALLY!
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: I do not own the Labyrinth or any of the characters contained therein. I'd like to, but I don't. If this first chapter interests you, please review!_

"You have no power over me." The words echoed strangely in Sarah's head as she fell through the air, fell through the ruins of Jareth's Castle, and landed softly on her feet, safely at home. The clock was chiming, and Sarah had no thought in her head other than to make sure her brother was safe. Racing up the stairs, Sarah burst into her Father and Step-mother's room. Toby was sleeping peacefully in his crib. In a burst of altruistic intent, Sarah jogged to her room and came back bearing Sir Lancelot, whom she tucked in with the sleeping Toby. Leaning down, she kissed her little brother on his forehead before smoothing his hair and then leaving, making sure to leave the door cracked.

Returning to her room, Sarah sat at her dressing table, realizing that she wasn't at all tired. Looking around, she saw all the various trappings and visualizations of her dreams, but nothing even came close to what she had just experienced. A small red book caught her eye, and she ran her hand over the smooth cover: The Labyrinth. She had thought it just a play before letting her imagination run wild, imagining herself as the heroine and conqueror of the Labyrinth, triumphing over the Goblin King. But never in all the times that she had practiced the line "You have no power over me," had she visualized the hurt and pain that she had seen in the Goblin King's eyes. Was it true that, "he had fallen in love with the girl…", as story went? How much of the story was real? Was any of it _not_ real?

Sarah continued to survey her room. Her eyes alighted over her toys, dolls, figurines, music boxes, and books that were her continued childhood. A tube of lipstick. A beautiful princess dancing on top of a music box. Glowing red fireys dancing in a dark bog. A small Goblin King figurine. Sarah picked up the figurine hesitantly, a frightening suspicion taking shape: what if she had dreamed it all? This room held all of the inspiration for everything that happened in the Labyrinth. Everything. Could it simply have been a dream, nothing more, nothing less? The very thought made Sarah want to cry, but before she could, a gravelly voice called her name. Hoggle was framed in her mirror.

At first, Sarah was relieved beyond words that the Labyrinth had been more than a dream. It didn't register what Hoggle, then Sir Didymus, and then Ludo said until they had finished speaking. And then their words slid into place: "Should you need us…" Need them? They were her friends. Just as no one had ever befriended them, no one had ever befriended her, unless you count Merlin. She never would have gotten through the Labyrinth if it hadn't been for them. Separating from them before Jareth's castle had been hard, but they had left her with the same words, "Should you need us…" What had she replied? She did need them. How could she tell them? What were the right words? And then, just like that, the right words came to her, "I do need you." And she did, truly.

Hoggle's face changed instantly, into a gigantic grin. "Well, why didn't you say so?!" In an instant, Sarah was surrounded by her three friends, and she frantically rushed to hug them all. In her excitement, Sarah never noticed the snowy owl outside her window. The owl watched, and then when it wanted to see no more, it flew away, casting a small shadow over the floor. Sarah caught the motion with the corner of her eye and turned just in time to see the white shape fly away. A feeling of uncertainty came over Sarah: what exactly was she celebrating? Several answers were clear: friends, Toby, and the certainty that the Labyrinth was real. After seeing the pain in the Goblin King's eyes, celebrating his and his Labyrinth's defeat didn't seem right. Now that she thought about it, the Goblin King probably wasn't as bad as she had made him out to be. It had been a competition of sorts between the two of them, a battle, if you will. All's fair in love and war, Sarah mused.

She would have continued reflecting on the day's events and on a certain wild-haired king had not one of the goblins present chosen that very moment to startle Ludo, who responded with a very loud howl prompting Sarah to return to the party. But before she could be carried away by the festivities again, Sarah vowed to herself that she would never doubt the Labyrinth's existence. The day's events marked a turning point in her life, and while she could still reminisce about her childhood, it was time to grow up. But she would never ever forget about the Labyrinth or forget her new friends, and she would never forget about Jareth.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's note: I don't own the Labyrinth or any of its wonderful inhabitants. Please review!_

Jareth found himself experiencing the profoundest déjà vu. Could it have been only thirteen hours ago that he had watched Sarah acting out the part of heroine of the Labyrinth? And now here he was watching Sarah, _the_ heroine of his Labyrinth. It had been too soon, he knew that. She was but fifteen, still a girl. How could she understand what it was he had offered; what she had refused? What did a young girl know of love?

As he watched her, he saw her look around her room, taking stock of her possessions, her dreams. Confusion knit her brows. No, he thought; don't let her doubt these past thirteen hours. Don't let her doubt the Labyrinth. Don't let her doubt _me_. Jareth did the first thing he could think of to help her: he conjured her friends. He saw Sarah face her friends, willing her to remember the right words – words that would keep her tied to the Labyrinth. Not bound by magic or anything else – simply bound by friendship. If she wouldn't stay with him, at least she would remember him, in some form or another. Even if she remembered him only as a cruel tyrant, a villain, that was better than being forgotten. Sighing, Jareth watched Sarah speak to the mirror. Sometimes the simplest words were the right ones. Her friends surrounded her instantly. Jareth watched for a few minutes, but the pain at watching her happiness, her light, and her love, from which he must ever be barred, hurt too much.

Spreading his wings, Jareth soared from the window sill, letting the wind stop his fall and lift him up. Toward the Labyrinth, and his castle nestled in the middle, Jareth directed his flight. In his owl form, Jareth retained his human thoughts and emotions, but his emotional pain was lessened to some extent. Her rejection had ripped apart his soul, but he didn't feel it as strongly as a wild animal. Before he knew it, he soared in through the window of his throne room. The room was strangely devoid of Goblins, but then Jareth remembered the battle earlier in the day – his goblins would be tending their wounds or wreaking havoc on the town.

Jareth faced his throne, and then swept his magnificent eyes around the room. The castle was still intact. Of course it was. What Jareth and Sarah had seen was nothing more than the breaking of Jareth's heart, not his castle. And with that realization came the pain that he had held at bay. She had rejected him. She didn't want him. He saw her, her eyes locked on his, their green, innocent depths reflecting his love, throwing it back at him just as her words had done. "You have no power over me." The words echoed in his ears, shaking him to the core.

Jareth wanted to rage. He wanted to storm, cry, and scream, to unleash his fury and pain. But he didn't seem to have it in him. Instead, he turned and sat on his throne. There he sat, pensive, unmoving, until the sun had dawned. Until the sun crested and set. When night had fallen once more, Jareth stood and quitted his throne room. Once the doors were open, the raucous noise of rambunctious goblins met his ears. Jareth refused to unleash his pain on them – they hadn't done anything wrong. Instead, he stepped around them, past them, not saying anything, barely looking at them. He made his way to his chambers, and there he paced the night through. When the sun had dawned on the second day, Jareth reached several conclusions.

First, he still loved Sarah. She did not love him back. She may never love him back. But, _oh_, how he loved her. In her he saw strength, courage, power, beauty, and love, just not for him. Her dreams fascinated him: they were so powerful, so beautiful, and yet so cruel. She had chosen him as her adversary: she had wanted him to be cruel, to be domineering, to be the evil Goblin King. And in fulfilling her dreams, he had forfeited his own. But he had forfeited his heart long ago, and he found he did not want it back.

Second, he could not mope as he had been doing. He wasn't the first to experience unrequited love, and he wouldn't be the last. It wouldn't kill him, no matter how much it hurt.

And third, he still had a kingdom to rule, a Labyrinth to run, and goblins to deal with. He was, after all, The Goblin King. Just not the one Sarah had made him be.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note: I don't own anything to do with the Labyrinth (except the soundtrack, which is _awesome_!). Names and places aside from those mentioned in the Labyrinth are cobbled together from an eclectic variety of sources. I ask for your forgiveness in advance, and as always, please review!_

At the knocking on his door, Jareth raised his weary head. He had been deep in thought in his study, immersed in every book he could get his hands on that dealt with the Labyrinth and its magic. Sitting up straight and assuming a casual, unaffected expression, Jareth made a small gesture with his hand and the door opened. In walked his senior advisor, Benwyk. Benwyk approached his King directly, and spoke without preamble.

"There's been another disappearance, sire." Benwyk bowed his head, hating to be the bearer of bad news. Jareth felt another part of him turn towards despair: another disappearance? He couldn't take much more of this. Still, he needed the facts. "Where? When? Who?" Jareth barked out his questions in quick succession, some part of him knowing he needed to act the capable King even if he wasn't.

"In the eastern sector of the Labyrinth, sire. There was a community of dwarves living on the edge of the darkness. They had refused to leave, despite your most urgent warnings. One woman and her two children went to forage for roots and other food one morning. Her husband reported them missing after two days, and then he left to find them. That was a week ago, and no one has seen hide nor hair of them since."

Jareth stood, and clasped his hands behind his back, pacing while he thought. He came to an abrupt halt and faced Benwyk. In his most official voice, Jareth said, "From this moment on, no one is to live within one hundred meters of the darkness. Issue orders of mandatory evacuation. Those who do not have family or friends to give them berth shall find food and lodging in this castle. If any dwarves of that community wish to seek the missing, send them to me directly." Jareth stopped talking, and Benwyk nodded his head, bowing quickly before turning to leave.

Before he could stop himself, Jareth called out, "Oh, and Benwyk…" The named party turned to face his king. "What are their names?" Benwyk looked at the parchment in his hand. "The family Winfull, sire. Father, Diggle, Mother, Miriam, Son, Tadgh, and Daughter, Adonna." The king waved out his advisor as he returned to sit at his desk. Drawing a sheet of parchment towards him, Jareth picked up his quill and wrote, _Family Winful, father Diggle, mother Miriam, son Tadgh, and daughter Adonna. Disappeared from eastern sector of Labyrinth, 20__th__ May Official orders of mandatory evacuation issued. Search party pending_. Setting down his quill, Jareth looked at the parchment, which was really a list of everything that had gone wrong in the Labyrinth in the past seven months.

The list was long. Certain entries jumped out at Jareth.

The first disappearance, nearly a month ago: _29__th__ April, one Woodcutter, name Thineus Disby, reported missing after work-related venture near darkness. Warnings urging citizens of Labyrinth living near darkness to relocate issued. _

_2__nd__ April, center of darkness discovered in eastern sector. Growth of darkness steady and impermeable to interference._

_16__th__ February, all borders of Labyrinth continuing to expand, unresponsive to attempts to return to original dimensions._

_21__st__ January, northern border of Labyrinth seen expanding into neighboring territory. _

And the very first entry, made just two weeks after Sarah's defeat of the Labyrinth:

_14__th__ November, Shreville family of worms, Father Earnest, reports unauthorized rearrangement of Labyrinth walls and displacement of family home._

Jareth surveyed the piles of ancient books surrounding him. In none of them had he found any record of this ever happening before. He didn't know what was wrong with the Labyrinth. One thing that he had found out in his research was that the Labyrinth had never been beaten before. There was no precedent for both Sarah's triumph over the Labyrinth and the changes in the Labyrinth. That meant that there was a good likelihood the two events were linked: Sarah's actions – whether she had done something to the Labyrinth in her thirteen hours here, or simply the act of defeating the Labyrinth – had caused this change. There was no other explanation.

At first, Jareth had thought his powers somehow diminished, his broken heart to blame. He had traveled to visit the Shreville family of worms to see for himself just what the problem was. He had found them living under a piece of loose tile some distance away from their original home. Jareth hadn't wasted any time in reordering the walls of the Labyrinth – only a few had changed, it should have been easy. It wasn't. The moment his magic touched the Labyrinth, Jareth felt resistance. Only after increasing the flow of magic had he been able to evoke a change. Eventually, he had everything put to rights and the family restored to their original home.

And a month later, all his work had been undone. None of his repairs lasted longer than a month. In fact, the time they lasted seemed to decrease steadily, until he couldn't repair anything at all. His magic was useless on the Labyrinth. He was just as powerful as he ever was elsewhere, but it was as if the Labyrinth had refused to heed him. Then, six months after Sarah's defeat of the Labyrinth, one of his worst fears was realized: the darkness appeared.

As master of the Labyrinth, Jareth had always sensed this darkness, as much a part of the Labyrinth as its bricks and walls. It was as if the Labyrinth was a living being, and Jareth knew enough about magic to know not to doubt that possibility. All creatures have the capacity to do evil. It is part of their makeup. Most learn to repress it, to ignore it, to forget it even exists. They have the ability to do evil, but they choose not to. The darkness in the Labyrinth was just like a potential for evil, but Jareth had placed safeguards around this blackness to prevent its growth and manifestation. Never, in all the years he had reigned as Goblin King, had that darkness shown itself. But in six months after Sarah's conquest, it suddenly appears? The events had to be linked.

Now, after the disappearances of five of his subjects, Jareth was forced to consider his only remaining option. His magic didn't work against the Labyrinth. He could not find any solution elsewhere. And now, his subjects were in danger. His kingdom was in danger. It was time to look to the source of the problem: Sarah. As much as he hated to admit it, Jareth needed her help.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's note: I possess no ownership over the Labyrinth or any of its associated characters and places. Again, I apologize for the characters that I do own, specifically for their names. Please review! Also, this is the last chapter I had that I had pre-written. The next chapters may be a few days (or longer, sorry!) away. Happy Holidays! _

Jareth sat slumped at his desk in the study. Running his hands through his tangled mane, he reflected on the past week's events. While fifteen dwarf families and numerous other creatures had made their homes inside his Castle's walls, Jareth had led his two dwarf volunteers back to their community and beyond, into the darkness, searching for any sign of the missing Winfull family. Jareth's keen eyes had spotted a small doll, identified as belonging to the dwarf-child Adonna. After several days hunting through the darkness, with only his magic to defend the two dwarves and himself from whatever lurked in the darkness, they had found only that doll. After a week in the darkness, the trio had emerged tired, drained, and defeated.

All that time in the darkness had given Jareth the feeling that the darkness itself was a living being, watching, thinking, and planning. He regretted his decision to allow the two dwarves, Daggle and Duggle, brothers to Diggle, to accompany him. He sensed their need to find their brother and his family, but at the same time he had no idea what to expect from the darkness. He couldn't gauge the danger, and he didn't want to risk any more of his subjects' lives. Grateful to have emerged with no further loss of life, Jareth transformed into an owl as soon as his companions were looked after, and flew to his castle. He'd been in his study ever since.

Jareth clearly saw he had one option left: Sarah. It had been nearly eight months since her triumph over the Labyrinth. Eight months since she had rejected him and broken his heart. He'd not seen her since that night, so, bracing himself, Jareth conjured a crystal with which to see her.

He saw her in a crowded building, people all around, separated by cords of rope or ribbon, people in uniforms. Sarah – from what he could see of her as she wasn't facing him – was tugging a suitcase behind her, and then someone called her name. Jareth watched as Sarah ran into her father's open arms and hugged him fiercely and then did the same to her stepmother. So, Jareth thought, they finally became one happy family. He saw Sarah ask something, to which the stepmother, Karen, responded. He could make out Toby's name, and realized that Sarah must have asked where Toby was. He was glad to see that she cared for her brother, that she had learned something from her thirteen hours in the Labyrinth.

Both desiring and dreading it, Jareth was finally given a view of Sarah's face as she turned and walked forward. Jareth let out an inarticulate sound, somewhere between a sigh and a sob. There she was. The same face that had haunted him every time he closed his eyes. Her same smile and her same cruel eyes. "Sarah…" he breathed. Closing his eyes in momentary remembrance, Jareth opened them and forced himself to reacquaint himself with her. As he looked, several differences glared at him.

She looked older than a mere fifteen or sixteen years. He could see that in her face – the child's softness was gone, replaced by more defined features. She was taller, and thinner, almost too thin. Her face held a hollowness that concerned him – she looked as if she was recovering from a serious malady. Her eyes were hooded and ringed with tiredness, almost the mirror of his own. What, he wondered, had she been doing with herself? What had happened? Where had she been?

Not expecting any answers, Jareth watched as Sarah accompanied her parents outside, and to a yellow vehicle. He would have watched more, save that he realized he was becoming entranced by her again. Jareth could feel himself slipping, forgetting about his kingdom and the problems with the Labyrinth. He pulled himself back before he could really lose himself, waving his hand reluctantly to send the crystal out of existence. The crystal disappeared instantly, but Sarah's image remained with Jareth. Feeling incredibly weak and tired, Jareth retired to his chambers and spent the night in deep slumber, continually dreaming of Sarah.

By the morning light, Jareth rose, breakfasted, and returned to his study. He knew he needed Sarah if the Labyrinth was ever to be restored to normal. But that presented a problem: he still loved her, and was more vulnerable to her than he could recall ever being in his entire life. It was hard enough for him to see her in his dreams, how would he cope with having her in his waking sight too? Despite himself, Jareth chuckled softly. It's not fair, he thought. Oh, Sarah, how right you were.

There wasn't any remedy for it: one way or another, she had to return to the Labyrinth, and he would have to deal with it.

Now, he had to devise away to get her here. The way Jareth saw it, he had two choices: he could make her come, or he could ask. The first would prove troublesome, as he had no power over her, and finding a way to force her to do anything would be long and difficult. He didn't have the time, and he didn't have the heart. That left the second option: he had to ask for her help. But how? If he simply appeared before her, asking for her help, blaming her for the problems in the Labyrinth, she'd reject him as thoroughly as she had before. Wouldn't she?

Then the answer appeared before him, remarkable in its simplicity. He had no control over her, but he could control his subjects, among them her friends. He would send Hoggle to fetch Sarah, and ask for her help. Surely she wouldn't refuse her friend, not when Hoggle's home depended on her help. Jareth had purposefully allowed the connection between Sarah and her friends to continue, wanting her to remain linked to the Labyrinth in any manner possible. Now, that might just be his saving grace.

Summoning another crystal, Jareth caused Hoggle's image to appear. The dwarf was rooting through some sort of closet filled with random items. Jareth recognized it immediately, and transported himself to the oubliette in the blink of an eye. He silently appeared behind Hoggle, watching as the dwarf rooted through the pile of junk, long forgotten by the inmates of this oubliette. Hoggle muttered as he dug, and then gave a joyful hoot as he found what he was looking for. Whatever it was, Jareth couldn't see. He simply waited for Hoggle to turn around, striking a deceptively casual pose by leaning into the stone wall, crossing his arms across his chest. Despite himself, Jareth liked the little dwarf. He had been utterly predictable, and for the most part still was, but ever since Sarah had met him, Hoggle had become much more interesting. And besides, here was another creature that loved Sarah as much as Jareth did, just not in the same way.

Hoggle stepped back and kicked the fallen pots and pans and paraphernalia into the closet. Stumbling on something that rolled underfoot, Hoggle landed hard on his backside. Hoggle rolled slowly onto his hands and knees, still grumbling, and then noticed Jareth. Jareth's boots, to be precise, but Hoggle realized that Jareth was attached to the boots a second later.

"Hello, Hogbrain," greeted Jareth in a bright voice, finding that he didn't have to force his cheer in this gloom. "Hoggle," Hoggle corrected indignantly. "What do you want?" Jareth tut-tutted at Hoggle's dismal tone, but kept up his bright charade. "I have a task for you Hogwart, a very important task." Hoggle looked up in trepidation, repeating his words of before, "I won't do nothin' to harm her." Jareth was slightly taken aback – was he that transparent? He hadn't even mentioned Sarah, but Hoggle knew right away. Best press on with it.

"I assure you, you won't be doing '_nothin_' to harm her,' I just need you to pay her a visit." Hoggle was disbelieving, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked up at Jareth. "I just…go and visit her? That's it?" Jareth couldn't suppress a smile at the defensive stance Hoggle had taken. "No, that's not it. You will ask Sarah to accompany you back to the Labyrinth. You will not leave without her. Is that clear?" Hoggle swallowed quickly; Jareth hadn't lost his ability to intimidate him, but he stood by what he said. "Why?" Jareth sighed, shedding his false demeanor.

"You've seen the changes in the Labyrinth. You know of the darkness that spreads, of the losses we've already experienced. This all started when she left. I can't fix it. She can." Jareth stooped to Hoggle's level, looking into Hoggle's eyes. "Now, did any of that penetrate your thick skull, Higgle? The Labyrinth needs Sarah. Your task is to bring her here, or suffer my…displeasure." Jareth stood, and tossed a crystal to Hoggle, who caught it reluctantly.

"You have until sundown today to return with Sarah. If I were you, I'd get going." Jareth laughed as he disappeared. Hoggle looked at the crystal, and brought it up to eye level. He was looking through the mirror in the room Sarah was in; he could see her packing.

Jareth reappeared in his chambers. He walked to the widow that overlooked the entire Labyrinth and waited.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's note: I don't own the Labyrinth or Hoggle, or Sarah, or (regrettably) Jareth. This will probably be my last chapter before the new year, as I've got several finals to study for and then the Holidays... Anyway, the new year is just around the bend, so I'm sure you'll be hearing from me soon. Happy Holidays, and, as always, please review!  
_

Sarah was packing. Or rather, Sarah was unpacking. Actually, it was both. She'd been living with her parents (and when Sarah referred to her parents, she meant her father and her step-mother Karen) for the past month, ever since she'd returned to the country. Her parents had been willing to have her stay longer, but Sarah was ready to strike out on her own. Her second day back had been spent job hunting. That's her second day back, not her first. Her first was spent sleeping until three in the afternoon and then being awoken by her younger brother Toby when he came home from school.

Sarah's search for a job had been difficult, even when she expanded her search to include the entire country. The problem was she just didn't seem to have any hirable skills. No one seemed overly impressed by her bachelor's degree in International Relations. Her minors in Dramatic Arts and Literature hadn't helped matters. Luckily, she'd learned enough Spanish from her studies and from her time abroad that she'd been able to secure a position as a high school teacher. She didn't have her teaching license, but she had been accepted into a lateral entry program and she was due to start learning how to teach in one month's time. The fall semester started in just over two months, and Sarah felt small tremors of equal parts trepidation and excitement course through her.

So, that left her with one month to find a place to live, a car to drive, and to set all her affairs in order for the move. She'd found several prospective apartments, and was going to look at used cars later that day with her father. She'd made a list of official things to do in preparation for her move. And for the next few hours, she was going to go through every box of her things that had been sitting in the attic since she went off to college. These boxes contained her childhood. Well, all the parts of her childhood that Toby hadn't wanted: Sir Lancelot still resided in Toby's room.

A smile danced across Sarah's features as she found the box that housed Sir Lancelot's mates. She hadn't been able to toss them out – they had been living creatures to her, not dolls, not stuffed animals – living creatures: friends. Still, living a life of exile in a dusty box hadn't exactly been preferential treatment on her part. Sarah rifled through the box, spotting a faded Sir Bedivere and a ragged Sir Gawain. Under her Sir Ector lay a familiar red book. Sarah knew that book. She knew what it contained. Wrapping her fingers around it, she gently extracted it and held it in her palm.

The lettering was faded, but she could still make it out as she traced her fingers over the gilt letters once more: The Labyrinth. She'd made a vow never to forget what this book contained, and she'd kept it, even though the book had been relegated to the attic two years after her vow. The thing was, Sarah didn't need a visual stimulus to remember the Labyrinth. If she wanted to remember the Labyrinth, all she needed to do was to close her eyes. She'd not slept one night in almost nine years without dreaming of the Labyrinth.

Actually, that was a lie. The Labyrinth, while a persistent figure in her dreams, was not present all the time. What was present all the time, or rather who, was the Goblin King. In the grand scheme of things, thirteen hours wasn't long at all, but it had generated enough memories of Jareth to keep Sarah's dreams occupied, prompting Sarah to memorize and analyze every word, expression, and action of Jareth's. She'd seen his face fall a thousand and more times when she'd said those fateful words. She'd puzzled about what he had meant when he said this, what the look in his eyes was when he did that…until Sarah had found herself generating what she was sure was an unhealthy obsession with a certain Underground king.

And then came the other dreams of Jareth. Some were spawned from her maturing body and raging hormones. Those she'd never wanted to analyze. Others were of a more sentimental nature, with Jareth offering himself to her again with such love in his eyes that it made her want to melt. In every dream of that nature, she'd refused him, feeling much like Beauty refusing the Beast's offer of marriage every night. She didn't want to hurt him, but always when it came time to answer no other words would come but, "You have no power over me."

Within an hour of defeating Jareth and his Labyrinth, Sarah had started to see him in a different light. Now, after years of reflection, Sarah had eventually come to feel rather…sympathetic…to the Goblin King. As a gangly fifteen-year-old, she hadn't completely understood the implications of his offer. She'd been frightened of him, intimidated by the sexual overtones she had understood and riled by his performance as an adversary. Now, at 23, after seeing him every night, she realized the full implication of her actions. He had loved her, and he had offered her everything. And she had thrown it back into his face.

But then again, she couldn't blame herself. She'd been fifteen – even if he had offered her eternal love, she had been far too young. Would she respond differently if he offered again? She couldn't say, but she wasn't so sure that she'd deny him again.

Sarah abruptly realized that she'd been staring at the book for a full fifteen minutes. Setting it onto her desk, she dove into the next box, trying to put Jareth and all things to do with the Labyrinth out of her mind. But, it didn't last long. Before Sarah had finished with her next box, she felt a difference in the room, a slight reordering of things. She spun in place quickly and found the source: Hoggle was framed in her vanity mirror.

"Hoggle!" Sarah cried in delight. "Come in, come in, please, Hoggle!" She watched his reflection shift and appear beside her in the mirror. Turning to face him, Sarah knelt down and embraced him quickly. "I've missed you so much, Hoggle! How have you been?"

Hoggle patted her back awkwardly, as he was wont to do, and then she released him from her embrace. "Sarah, look at you – yer a right tree, you are, growing like you 'ave." Hoggle stopped speaking after that, which Sarah found odd.

Sarah made another stab at conversation. "What brings you here today?"

To Sarah's interest, Hoggle crossed his arms behind his back, looked down, and toed the carpet with his feet.

"Hoggle," Sarah said, mildly reproving. "What? What is it? Is something wrong? Is it Ludo? Sir Didymus?" Sarah swallowed and then said the name she'd not spoken aloud since her time in the Labyrinth: "Is it Jareth?"

At that name, Hoggle's head popped up. Sarah helped him to sit, and then stood facing him, apprehensive. "Tell me, Hoggle. What's wrong?"

Hoggle took a breath and finally spoke. "It's him. He sent me to bring you back."

Sarah wasn't sure she had heard correctly. "What? He sent you here to bring me back? That can't be. Hoggle, what were his exact words?"

Hoggle knitted his brows together as his feet continued to toy with the carpet. Finally, he said "Something about asking you to 'company me back and to not come back without you."

It was Sarah's turn to sit. "Oh. Well, why? Why does he want me to return?" Surely if he had any intention whatsoever to renew his offer to her, not that she had any hope of that mind you, Jareth would certainly have done so in person.

Hoggle watched the confusion spread across Sarah's face. Best to just spit it out. "Something's wrong with the labyrinth – it's growin', and changin', and he can't control it. It all started when you won, and he needs you to fix it."

Sarah stared at Hoggle, incredulous. "He needs me to fix it? But I didn't do anything. I wouldn't know how. Hoggle, tell me exactly what's happened."

So he did – he spoke of the rearrangements, and then the expansion of the borders, and then the darkness – the evil that was spreading. "He can't fix it. He's tried. Nothing's lasted. The Labyrinth needs you." Sarah didn't miss the plaintive note in his last statement.

Standing up, she grabbed an empty rucksack and started throwing in clothes and shoes. Then Sarah stopped. What was she doing? She'd just accepted a job, she was due to move, her life was finally getting on track, and she was just going to up and leave it all for who knows how long just because some gorgeous king had sent her friend to tell her that the Labyrinth needed her help? She had to be crazy.

She was. Sarah started packing again, stopping only to puzzle over what she should bring. What did one bring for an indeterminately-long stay in the Labyrinth? Sarah finally decided on a few clean and practical outfits, her basic toiletries, and her tennis shoes. Making a mental note to ask (should the requisite courage magically appear) Jareth to create some sort of excuse for her absence from the Aboveground, Sarah turned to Hoggle and said, "Time to go."

Hoggle started to approach her, but stopped when his eyes spotted a pretty beaded necklace she'd made a while ago. Sarah searched for the cause of his delay and, sighing, picked up the necklace and handed it to him, trying to suppress a chuckle. Hoggle contentedly attached it to his collection of jewels and plastic accessories, and then pulled a crystal from one of his pockets.

Sarah felt a shiver of remembrance pass through her, but forced herself to put one hand on the crystal like Hoggle. Kneeling down, Sarah was able to look through the crystal, and saw a dark and barren landscape. As she focused on the details, Sarah was amazed to realize that even though she'd felt no sensation of movement, she was no longer in her room.

Sarah was facing the Labyrinth, but not as she remembered it. In fact, had she not known it was the Labyrinth, she wouldn't have recognized it. The sky was a green-grey, and the wall was warped and menacing. The castle in the middle of the goblin city looked ages away. Sarah dreaded the answer to the question she had to ask: "Hoggle…are we going in there?"

Instead of Hoggle's voice, Jareth's voice answered. "No need."

Sarah turned quickly to the source of his voice and saw Jareth, almost exactly the same as she remembered: The living mane of hair, the dove grey tights, black, knee-high boots, and a white poet's shirt open to reveal a lightly-tanned chest bearing the same heavy medallion. His eyes, still the same uneven blue she remembered, were as piercing as ever. His hands were encased, as always, in leather gloves, one extended for her to take. She took it without hesitation, and found herself inside his throne room.

He released her hand quickly, and stepped away. It was he who spoke first. "Welcome back to the Labyrinth, Sarah."

_Author's Addendum: So, they've met again. Dun dun duh... If you have time, please review!_ _(Also, you may have spotted some seeming inconsistencies in time, but rest assured, they are all planned.)_


	6. Chapter 6

_Author's note: Surprise! One more chapter before the new year. Happy Holidays, and please review!_ _Oh, and I don't own the Labyrinth._

"Welcome back to the Labyrinth, Sarah."

Every time Sarah had interacted with Jareth before, it had been in an informal setting. Outside in an arid landscape, inside a creepy tunnel…the only exceptions were the ballroom and the setting of their final confrontation. She'd always known that Jareth was the Goblin King, but now, seeing his throne room for the first time drove home the fact that Jareth was a _king_. A very handsome king, who was waiting for some sort of a response from her. What were the right words to address a king respectfully?

Sarah quickly settled on a formal (and stuffy) "Thank you, your majesty," before inclining her head briefly and then looking away. She masked her nervousness and her difficulty keeping her eyes off of him by diverting her gaze to take in the entire room. She spied a window overlooking the entire Labyrinth, and crossed the room to have a look.

Jareth observed her, fighting to keep his face impassive and cool, no matter what emotions boiled beneath the surface. Looking at her, there was no doubt that she was much grown, physically at the very least, since she had conquered the Labyrinth barely nine months ago. Although Sarah's response had been primly short, it had been long enough for Jareth to detect the shadow of her voice from before hiding behind this new voice that was stronger and somehow richer. Her face was narrower, although she'd lost most of the gauntness he'd seen in his crystal. Most telling were her eyes. He remembered the innocent orbs of before – he might then have been looking into a startled fawn's eyes such was the innocence – but now, her eyes were all grown up. She seemed to pierce him with the one gaze she had given him thus far, and he had felt his façade slip ever so slightly, and was therefore grateful that she turned away from him a moment later.

What he had seen of her earlier in his crystal hadn't been distorted: somehow, time in the Aboveground had outpaced time in the Underground. Just great, Jareth thought, something more to add to the list of problems. Setting that aside, Jareth considered her choice of words.

Her use of his title and not his name was both a blessing and a curse. To hear his name from her lips might have been more than he could bear, the pain of her parting still smarting as it did, and yet her cold deference and formality almost hurt more. Well, if that was how she wanted it to be between them, he would oblige her.

Fashioning an impromptu, official-sounding speech, Jareth said, "As champion of the Labyrinth, you will receive all that is due to you. Given the current state of affairs, that won't be much. Still, you are entitled to lodging and repast anywhere you desire. I've taken the liberty of arranging accommodations for you here in the castle, but if your wishes lie elsewhere, you have only to say so and other arrangements will be made. While I am grateful that you chose to return, I want you to understand that you are under no obligation to help. If at anytime you wish to return to the Aboveground, you need only ask." As he spoke, he approached her, coming to stand beside her.

She nodded absently, indicating that she had heard his words while her eyes never left the Labyrinth. She could see all of the changes Hoggle had mentioned. The outer walls were much further away that she remembered, as if the Labyrinth had taken a giant breath and refused to let it out. The atmosphere was far removed from the dusky orange of before. Instead, a dull, grey light illuminated worn masonry and gloomy forests. The darkness, she saw, was aptly named. It reminded her of a reverse hurricane eye. There was no gradient between the darkness and the comparatively-brighter portions of the Labyrinth. There was light, and then there was darkness.

"It's so different," she said, her manner abstracted. Sarah leaned her face closer to the window, feeling as if the Labyrinth was drawing her in. A sudden footfall beside her broke whatever spell she had been under, and she blinked several times to clear her vision. Sarah turned to look at Jareth and was startled to find him so close.

He surveyed the Labyrinth as she had done, and Sarah took the opportunity to see what she hadn't seen in her cursory appraisal of him earlier. Up close, he looked tired and on-edge. Worry lines surrounded his tired eyes, still magnificent in their drained state. His lips were closed, his jaw set; he looked worn out.

"I want to help." The words were out before Sarah had formed the thought, but she didn't care; they were true. "Really. I want to help; I don't care what I have to do. I don't know how and I don't even know if I will be able to, but I want to help you." Sarah ended her abrupt offer of help as her next words dried up. It could have been because she was nervous and not sure how he'd take her offer of help considering she had beaten him at his own game and presumably caused this current crisis. But the more likely explanation for her sudden reticence was that the moment she had mentioned wanting to help, Jareth had fixed his eyes on hers and the intensity of his gaze made further speech impossible.

After what felt like an eternity, Jareth spoke. "Thank you," he said quietly. It had been easier than he could have imagined, and Jareth released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Before he could say anything else, Sarah's eyes widened and her voice returned.

"Oh! I almost forgot. I need you…" Sarah paused, momentarily forgetting what she was going to say.

Jareth arched an eyebrow, intrigued.

Remembering what it was she needed to ask, Sarah continued, trying not to blush after her compromising pause. "What I meant was, if you would, I'd like you to arrange an excuse for my absence from the Aboveground. Please." And just like that, they were back to business.

"I see. I will attend to that matter momentarily. For now, perhaps it would be best if you familiarized yourself with the castle, the Goblin City, and the immediate Labyrinth. I think you will find your friend and guide Hoggle waiting outside that door." Jareth gestured to a set of ornately-carved wooden doors on the opposite side of the room.

Sarah hadn't even realized that Hoggle was missing. She'd been so distracted by Jareth's presence and by being back in the Labyrinth that she hadn't even noticed. What else had she missed? Sudden realization hit her, and she reached for the straps that should have been across her shoulders, only to come up empty-handed.

Jareth anticipated her query and answered, "You'll find your rucksack in your room. Your chambers are being prepared as we speak, and when they are done, my senior housekeeper, Mrs. Chartha, will find you."

Sarah relaxed, grateful that she wouldn't have to ask for clothes and other basic necessities. A sudden image of her walking around in an open poet's shirt and tights, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination, threatened to produce a very undignified fit of laughter. Fighting the urge, Sarah instead said, "You remembered his name."

Jareth stared, uncomprehending.

"Hoggle's name," Sarah prompted. "You said it right. You never say it right. You always call him Hogwart or Hogbrain, but never Hoggle."

A small smile spread across Jareth's features. "You're right. I forgot myself; I don't know what came over me. It won't happen again."

Sarah let herself smile, albeit uncertainly, at what she was sure might have been good-natured sarcasm. Turning towards the door he had indicated, Sarah made to leave. Before she reached the door, Jareth stopped her.

"Before you go Sarah, I need to ask you something."

She turned back to him, an expectant expression on her face.

"I must ask you not to venture into the Labyrinth alone. Ensure that you have an escort at all times. More importantly, do not approach the darkness without me. There are dangers untold in the darkness, and I would hate for harm to befall you."

His tone was deadly serious, and Sarah knew she should respond in kind. "I won't," she answered.

Her answer must have been adequate, for he nodded and then waved the doors open. As Jareth had said, Hoggle was waiting outside the doors. The dwarf jumped back when the doors opened. His attempts to look innocent even though he had obviously had his hand cupped to the door, trying to eavesdrop, failed miserably.

Sarah grinned at Hoggle, and turned back to say goodbye to Jareth. She would have too, save that when she looked back, he wasn't there. Apart from herself, the throne room was completely empty. Somewhat disconcerted, Sarah let Hoggle lead her away.

Had she chosen to look out the window, she would have seen a snowy owl growing smaller and smaller as it flew towards the Aboveground.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's note: Sorry for the delay! I hope you like it, and please review!_

Jareth's castle was much larger on the inside than it seemed from the outside. Sarah followed Hoggle through hallway after empty hallway. Here and there, Sarah would notice certain details. The way the stone blocks were stacked, a certain carving repeated here and there, a mark like Jareth's pendant in some of the keystones. The craftsmanship was amazing: each stone fit above the other with perfect precision. Barely any mortar was used at all, so tight was the fit. Running a hand over one block, Sarah could see tiny chisel marks: each block had been hand-chiseled out of a larger stone.

"Who made this, Hoggle?"

"Who made what?" came the reply.

A conversation about Labyrinthine doors came to Sarah's mind. She would have to be more specific. "Who made this castle? Who built it?"

"Goblins. They don't call it the Goblin City for nothin'." Hoggle grunted his way forward, leaving Sarah to ponder his answer.

_Goblins_? The same goblins that raised an incompetent and disorganized army to prevent her from penetrating this very castle? Those tiny things? How? To her mind, it would be similar to children building the Great Wall of China: how could small and mischievous goblins build this huge and majestic castle? Again, Sarah remembered: all was not as it seemed in this place.

Ahead in the corridor Sarah could hear a din growing steadily louder. She and Hoggle came to a giant room housing a hundred or so Underground creatures. It was as if a busy village square had sprouted in the middle of Jareth's grand foyer. In one corner, dwarf-men like Hoggle pounded metal on dark anvils. In another corner, dwarf-women tended to the washing, hanging up sheets and oddly-shaped undergarments on sporadically placed lines. Nobody paid Sarah and Hoggle any mind as they passed through, and Sarah was grateful. If she were indeed the cause of the problems in the Labyrinth, then she was responsible for all that had gone wrong. She doubted she'd receive so peaceful a reception if they knew that.

The room was very bright, too bright to be lit solely by the one or two windows in the room. Looking upwards, Sarah found the source of the illumination: faeries. The ceiling was covered in bright green vines and vivid flowers, providing a beautiful and lush home for the hundreds of faeries housed therein. Indoor lighting: Underground-style, Sarah thought wryly.

Returning her gaze to its normal level, Sarah found herself face-to-face with a set of heavy, ornately-carved wooden doors. There weren't any handles or signs saying "push" or "pull." Judging by their size, Sarah'd need Ludo to open these doors.

"'Scuse me," said a voice from somewhere near Sarah's ankle.

Looking down, Sarah saw a tiny goblin, a child from the looks of it. Its green skin and big, brown eyes were topped with a mop of shaggy black hair.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you!" Sarah backed away and watched as the little goblin gave the doors a gentle push and they both swung open instantly. How odd. The doors had looked heavy, so Sarah had taken it for granted that they were. When would she learn her lesson?

The goblin-child shuffled through the doors and down the street before Sarah could say anything more. So, she shrugged and followed Hoggle again, this time out of doors and into the Goblin city. Despite the time that had passed in her absence, Sarah found herself remembering sites she'd seen briefly before. The houses really were quite quaint, almost like the mud-daubed, thatched houses of merry old England, minus the thatch. Low walls of the same quality stonework as in the castle ran alongside the roadways. Hoggle led Sarah along the main road, directly to the gates of the city.

The streets were dusty and deserted. All that was needed was a lone tumbleweed rolling along and it could almost pass for a western ghost town. The atmosphere was right: green-grey sky, dismal ambiance.

"Where is everyone?" Sarah asked.

Hoggle shuffled along for a few minutes before answering. "They're there. Most folk keep to their houses now-a-days, secret-like. Unnatural. Goblins normally aren't like that, but everyone's been actin' weird since the Labyrinth went funny."

Sarah didn't have anything to add. The gravity of the situation was starting to sink in. The changes in the Labyrinth, that she probably caused, affected everyone.

Before Sarah lay the ruins of a giant machine, a large pile of metal parts. She recognized the giant robot-like thing from her time here before, but she couldn't account for the state of the machine. Given the length of her absence, it should be rusted and corroded, maybe even coated in marauding ivy. Instead, the metal was still shiny, coated in a very fine layer of glittering dust. That didn't make sense. Sarah stopped walking, a sudden thought occurring to her. She turned to Hoggle.

"Hoggle, how long has it been since I was last in the Labyrinth?" Sarah waited for his response with bated breath.

Hoggle scratched his head with a stubby finger before answering. "'Bout eight months, I'd say."

Sarah was speechless. Eight months? Eight months! _Eight months?_ How could that be? And yet, how could it not be? Aside from the malevolent changes in the Labyrinth, few things had changed. Hoggle looked the same. The castle looked the same. The city looked the same, minus the orange atmosphere and rowdy goblins. Jareth looked the same.

"Sarah?" Hoggle asked, concerned at the puzzled look on her face.

Sarah pulled herself together and said in a shaky voice, "Hoggle, I've been gone for eight years."

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It was too easy, Owl-Jareth thought. He'd made this journey a thousand times. Once he was out of the Underground, his wings took him directly to her home. A subtle touch of magic later and he was soaring in through her open window, landing in his fae form.

Her room was different, far different than he remembered. Before, the room had been brightly cluttered with the representations of her dreams. Toys, costumes, and vivid art had poured from every nook and cranny. Now, the only sign of those times were the odds and ends erupting from dusty boxes. It was as if she had tried to box up her dreams and forget them, but Jareth knew dreams had a mind of their own. They always came back to haunt you.

What else was knew? A stack of books lay in the corner, mostly texts he saw, but a few others stood out. "A Midsummer Night's Dream," and "Twelfth Night," among others. So, Jareth thought, she likes the bard. Another book lay on her desk, its plain cover deceptively innocent: The Labyrinth. Why, oh _why_, had he given her that book? On its own it had been harmless. He could have given it to her and at worst she'd have had another fantasy book for her collection. But he'd altered it, added to it, changed the details. And that had given her the tools to break his heart. To shatter his dreams.

Knowing it was silly but unable to stop himself, Jareth backed away from the book, fearful of its destructive power. He heard footsteps on the stairs. Heavy ones. Sarah's father. Showtime.

Jareth stood before Sarah's door, unmoving and quiet. In his hand, he held a crystal. The spell was cast, ready, and waiting.

The footsteps stopped on the other side of the door. Sarah's father raised his hand, ready to knock and ask if his daughter was ready to go car shopping. His hand stopped in mid air. Confusion passed briefly over his face as the spell took effect. Then he lowered his hand and shook his head, chuckling. "That's strange. I don't know what I must have been thinking. I almost thought Sarah was back and not still in South America. Ha!" And just like that, the story took root in everyone's mind, anyone who knew Sarah, had contact with her. Jareth had created the framework, presented the bottom line: Sarah was gone. Her father had supplied the details, the figures: she was still abroad, in…South America, was it?

One simple charm and her alibi was set. It would last until he undid it. Tonight, Sarah's family would laugh at her father's lapse of thought and dismiss it. When she returned, her absence would be explained and her life Aboveground would resume.

His task completed, Jareth used his time to investigate. The tension of his recent meeting with Sarah had him in no hurry to return Underground. Besides, if times inconsistencies continued, his time in the Aboveground would be no more than a blink in the Underground.

Looking around, Jareth tried to determine just how old Sarah was. When he'd last seen her, she was fifteen, almost sixteen. Now, she looked at least twenty, maybe even thirty. The books in the corner indicated some form of higher education, or perhaps it was the college diploma on the wall. So that meant at least four years, six actually, since she would have had to finish high school. So, twenty-one, twenty-two? The pictures around the room would have been helpful, save that none featured her. There were a few of a baby boy Jareth remembered: Toby. Well, some were of a baby boy, but most were of a boy, maybe seven, maybe even eight. Confound it! That would mean that for the almost-one year he'd just spent in the Underground, six, seven, maybe even eight years had passed Aboveground. But why? It didn't make sense!

And what the deuce was she doing in _South America_? Studies? Vacation?

Jareth continued to look about her room whilst pondering that question. Her closet was open, some of the hangers in disarray, as if she had packed quickly. Had she been hasty to return Underground? Eager? What exactly did Hoggle say to her?

So many questions, when he'd hoped to find answers. And then there was another one: on her beside table, beside a picture of her family, in front of a bottle of hand lotion, was a blue figurine that closely resembled …him. What did that _mean_?

He turned away from it, unwilling to continue that train of thought any further. He faced her closet again. Judging by the size of her rucksack, she'd packed lightly, and would be unprepared for the sometimes bitterly cold nights of late in the Labyrinth. Rather than rifling through her clothes like a thief, Jareth waved his hand and the whole lot disappeared, reappearing in a particular room in the goblin castle.

After once last glance around, Jareth decided that if he wanted answers, he'd have to go to the source. Her room guarded its secrets well. He jumped out the window, transforming into Owl-Jareth once more. Spreading his wings wide, he sailed away. One last stop, and then he'd return to the Labyrinth.

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Sarah was seeking answers of her own. She was wondering how in the bloody hell she had managed to get herself into this situation. What situation? Well, it started innocently enough. After her revelation about the time inconsistencies, she'd pushed that matter aside, deciding she'd ask Jareth about it later. She and Hoggle had continued their sojourn through the Goblin city. They had just rounded a bend in the road when she noticed them. Goblin children. Goblins were small and unmistakably short, but these goblins were children. How she knew, Sarah couldn't say; she just knew.

The goblin-children, all twenty or so of them, were sitting motionless in a dusty courtyard, looking utterly dejected. The sight went straight through Sarah's heart.

"What's wrong with those children, Hoggle? Why aren't they laughing and playing, or is that uncommon for children here?"

Hoggle looked at the goblin-children, his expression hard. "It is now."

Sarah understood: ever since the problems in the Labyrinth had arisen, he meant.

Hoggle continued. "Jareth met with the goblin Alderman, Ragnuk a few months ago. They banned all children from the Labyrinth, for safety like. And you see, perfectly safe, they are." He gave a mirthless laugh. "Only they don't have anywhere to play now their playground's off limits."

Sarah didn't mistake the bitter tone behind Hoggle's words. She'd developed a very soft spot for children. Call it reformed-big-sister syndrome; she hated seeing sad children. She had to cheer them up. What did goblin-children do for amusement? Chase chickens? Well, there certainly weren't any of those around. Did they chase each other?

Now that was a thought. Tag. If she could get them to play tag, it might cheer them up a bit, and it would give her a chance to burn off the nervous energy left over from her meeting with Jareth. So, she'd gotten the children's attention, demonstrated the game with a reluctant Hoggle, and then they were off.

At first, it had worked well. Remarkably well. The children had cottoned-on to the game quickly, running about trying to tag each other. Most had smiles on their faces; a few even laughed, their deep goblin voices complementing the sound of running feet perfectly. It was working beautifully. Then, at no particular time, conditions deteriorated.

One moment Sarah was watching a goblin-child named Vilha try and tag another she'd learned was named Oscar, and the next, she was trying to pry nineteen excited goblin-children off the unlucky "it"-goblin. Somehow, the game had reversed. Instead of the "it" trying to tag the other goblins, the other goblins had taken it upon themselves to decommission the "it." Before long, the goblin-children were more active than ever, but they were using their newfound energy to wage child-war on each other. Sarah tried pulling them apart, all to no avail.

Then they'd turned on her. She'd tried to run, but they'd charged her before she could even lift her foot. Sarah fell to the ground like Gulliver fell to the Lilliputians, only without the ropes. Instead, the goblin-children swarmed her like a hoard of angry ants. They stomped on her, pulled her hair, pulled off her shoes, while she squirmed in the dirt under them.

And then they stopped. Sarah opened her eyes to investigate the cause of her deliverance and saw the last person she'd have chosen to see her so humiliated: Jareth. Mirroring his actions of before, he extended his gloved-hand and she took it, using it to pull herself up.

When she was upright, she released his hand and began dusting herself off. A moment or two passed before she realized she was standing yet again in Jareth's throne room.

Jareth tried not to stare at her, really, he did. But he couldn't help it. Look at her! Her clothes were disarrayed, one shoe was missing, her hair was half out of its pony tail, and she was liberally smeared with dirt. Feeling a foreign emotion rising uncontrollably within him, Jareth decided to keep this meeting brief.

"You alibi is taken care of. Your rooms are ready. You'll find my housekeeper, Mrs. Chartha just outside those doors. Perhaps you would like to freshen up? Whenever it is amenable to you, we'll discuss just how you can help with the Labyrinth." Jareth was struggling to keep his face impassive.

Sarah noticed his lip trembling, and stood up straight. With dignity, she nodded and then thanked him, and then walked out of the room with her head held high and her back straight. Well, as straight as possible; her steps were uneven due to her missing shoe.

The doors opened as she reached them, and sure enough, a matronly goblin waited patiently outside the door. When Sarah reached her, the doors shut behind her, and she began to follow Mrs. Chartha. A sudden sound stopped her. Quietly creeping back to the door, Sarah put her ear to it and heard the unmistakable sound of Jareth's laughter.

She stood up quickly, indignation boiling within her. He was laughing at her! The nerve of that man! But then, come to think of it, it was pretty funny. Sarah looked down at her clothes, raised a hand to her hair. Actually, it was more than funny. And then she was laughing too, before she caught herself and followed Jareth's housekeeper to her room.

Jareth was laughing. He was laughing like he hadn't laughed in a long time. The sight of Sarah overwhelmed by goblin-children, her disheveled and bedraggled appearance, and her comical walk out of the room, trying in vain to maintain her dignity had pushed him over the edge. As soon as he'd closed the doors, he'd thrown his head back and let out the burst of laughter that'd been rising within him. He laughed until tears came to his eyes. When he was finished, he wiped his face and composed himself. Letting out one more chuckle, Jareth headed off to his study, a new spring in his step. Trust Sarah to break the tension between them so effectively.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's note: Another offering for your reading pleasure. The same disclaimer still applies. Please review!_

Jareth returned to his study after a brief foray outside. He brushed the dust off his tights and sat down in his desk chair. Propping his feet up on the desk, he reclined in his chair, folding his hands behind his neck. That bout of explosive laughter had had a wonderfully relaxing effect on Jareth. He allowed himself the luxury of a large yawn and a few minutes rest before he reopened his eyes. It just so happened that the first thing his eyes alighted upon put an end to his peaceful respite. Jareth sprang from his chair and stepped quickly to the window.

Impossible! How had he missed the gloom of his passage outside a few minutes ago? The sun was setting. That meant that his trip to the Aboveground had lasted the same amount of time here in the Underground as Above: the two worlds were back in synch. But why?

His calm shattered, Jareth paced as he tried to logically attack the problem. Time couldn't have changed by itself – something had to trigger the change. That meant that sometime in the time between when he sent Hoggle to fetch Sarah and the time he himself traveled to the Aboveground, something had occurred that had elicited time's return to normalcy. Jareth stilled himself, fighting to restore his prior state of calm. He needed to be rational. He couldn't solve this problem if he let the panic and despair rising within overwhelm him. After a few deep breaths, he continued his train of thought.

What events had transpired in that interval of time? Jareth turned back to his desk, grabbed a quill, ink, and parchment and wrote:

_1. Hoggle to Aboveground_

_2. Sarah to Underground; Hoggle returned_

_3. Jareth to Aboveground; Spell cast; returned to Underground_

That was all he was aware of. Below that list, he made another, this one of all the events surrounding the initiation of the break in time.

_1. Jareth to Aboveground_

_2. Sarah, Toby, Jareth to Underground_

_3. Sarah navigated Labyrinth successfully, defeated Jareth_

_4. Sarah, Toby returned to Aboveground_

_5. Jareth to Aboveground; later returned to Underground_

_6. Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus to Aboveground; returned before next day_

Jareth put his quill down and read his list. He drew a line through every item that didn't occur in both lists, excluding anything to do with Ludo, Sir Didymus, and Toby. That left Hoggle, Sarah, and himself, and any of their respective travel between the two worlds as a cause. He could exclude himself, as he'd traveled back and forth between the two worlds thousands of times, and cast spells on many of those occasions and never once had the very fabric of time been altered so. That left Hoggle and Sarah. To his knowledge, the first time the dwarf traveled Aboveground was directly after Sarah returned triumphantly. But he also knew that the dwarf had been in contact with Sarah in the interim, and yet no change in time had occurred then. It wasn't enough evidence to absolutely exclude Hoggle as the source of the change, but it would do for the moment. He could, he supposed, send the dwarf to the Aboveground now and leave him there for a while to see if time changed again. Perhaps in a mortal zoo. His fingers itched to do it, to summon the requisite power; when Jareth had returned and found Sarah under the mound of goblin-children, Hoggle had been nowhere in sight. Even though the children wouldn't have managed to harm Sarah, not seriously at least, he personally would never have left Sarah in such a predicament. That Hoggle had done so was both expected and unforgivable.

He'd consider Hoggle later. For now, Sarah was the last option. She was the common factor, the only one he couldn't exclude. And yet he could exclude her: Sarah had been to the Labyrinth before. It was so long ago, more than ten years before she wished her younger brother away. She didn't remember, not consciously. What her subconscious knew was a different matter. When she had returned to her room the night she defeated him, Sarah had looked at all of her things, seen how they could have inspired a dream about the Labyrinth when really it was the other way around. He'd watched her over the years. At first he had thought it was coincidence, a doll that looked like a goblin, a book that talked of wild things. As those coincidences had added up, he'd realized that it couldn't be coincidence: the objects that garnished her room were inspired by her brief time in the Labyrinth, a time she didn't remember save but in her dreams.

But that was beside the point. What mattered now was that when he had returned her to the Aboveground all those years ago, time had continued its synchronized dance. If she was indeed the cause of the current problem, why hadn't it occurred then? What had happened when she returned to reclaim her baby brother that hadn't happened when she'd been in Toby's place? Then the answer came to him, a voice in his head whose truth he couldn't ignore: _She defeated the Labyrinth. She beat you. _

Yes. That had to be it. He'd already come to the conclusion that the problems in the Underground were caused by Sarah's triumph over himself and his Labyrinth. Perhaps that was the reason behind everything – the problems with the Labyrinth, the darkness, and time's inconsistencies. It didn't make sense that the flow of time would be dependent on her comings and goings, but nothing else could explain it. It had to be connected to her. That settled it in Jareth's mind. The changes in the Labyrinth, the disturbances in time, the darkness…they were all connected to Sarah.

Jareth waited. The feeling of accomplishment never came. It wasn't enough that he'd figured out what had caused the problems. The question now was how was he going to fix the problems, and he didn't have an answer.

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Sarah sat back in her bathwater, resting her head on the rim of the tub. For all the castle looked ancient, it featured surprisingly modern furnishings. The bathroom, aside from its high, vaulted ceilings and stone walls, was every bit as comfortable and modern as her bathroom at home. There was a large sink set into a smooth marble surface. Above the sink was a large mirror which allowed her to see how truly bedraggled she had been before hopping into the tub. The commode was exactly like the ones found in the Aboveground, though Sarah wondered where its contents disappeared to when flushed away. The tub was a porcelain, claw-footed basin, with polished silver handles and a tap at one end. It had been full of hot, steaming water when she entered the bathroom behind Mrs. Chartha. A soft, fluffy rug had tickled her un-shoed foot, and she had taken the other shoe off along with both socks to feel the soft fibers between her toes. As with the great hall downstairs, a thicket of faeries lit this room, providing soft and white light while Sarah stripped and sank blissfully into the hot water. Mrs. Chartha, whose reticence was such that Sarah'd had only a handful of words from her so far, had taken Sarah's soiled clothing away. And here she was again, carrying another bundle of clothing, this one of clean clothes.

Sarah pulled the plug from the cooling water and stood up, hurriedly covering herself with a towel before Mrs. Chartha looked up from putting her bundle down.

"Thank you, Mrs. Chartha," Sarah said, as she secured her towel and made her way over to investigate what items of clothing were in the bundle. Jareth's housekeeper nodded her head absently and then headed back into Sarah's chamber. As Sarah dressed, she noticed that Mrs. Chartha had selected a dark green sweater for Sarah to wear, one that was certainly Sarah's, but something that Sarah most definitely did not pack. She finished dressing quickly and strode into her room, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

The sight of the short, goblin-woman wiping down a familiar shoe brought Sarah up short. "My shoe! Did you go to the trouble of getting my shoe back from those goblin-children?"

Mrs. Chartha shook her head. "'Is Majesty fetched it while you was bathin'." That said, she put the freshly-cleaned shoe down next to its mate.

"Oh," was all Sarah had to say. That was nice of him. She watched Mrs. Chartha's capped-head disappear into a large wardrobe, reappearing with a pair of thick socks Sarah recognized as her own. Sarah looked behind the goblin-woman, into the fully-stocked wardrobe. It looked as if every scrap of clothing she owned was neatly crammed inside. How could that be?

"I didn't pack those socks, Mrs. Chartha. I didn't pack any of this. How did my entire wardrobe come to be here?"

"It were 'is Majesty. 'E brung the 'ole lot down from yer world. Said you might need warmer clothes, and not to fuss, 'e didn't go through naught."

Jareth again. Sarah shivered, noticing for the first time how chilly it was in the room. He had a point: she hadn't packed for cold weather. When she'd been here before, the Labyrinth and Goblin City had been comfortably warm both during the day and at night. It was thoughtful of Jareth to look after her needs like that, and if he said he'd not gone through her things, then she'd take his word for it. As Hoggle had so eloquently put it years ago (or was it months?), "What choice have you got?"

"Is there anything else from His Majesty?"

Mrs. Chartha pointed to a table a few feet away. On the table was a place setting for one, a pewter plate, knife, fork, and goblet, and a large serving tray covered with a silver domed lid. As she approached, Sarah could smell an irresistible and yet impossible scent emanating from that silver dome. Her right hand on the warm handle of the dome, Sarah lifted it up and found the source of the delicious smell: pizza. Not just any pizza either. Her favorite pizza, one she hadn't had in years: cheese, pineapple, ham, and green bell peppers. Sarah wondered vaguely how Jareth had known this was her favorite before grabbing a slice and taking a wonderful first bite. After that, she lost the capacity for coherent thought. Three and a half slices later, Sarah replaced the dome, took a last sip from her goblet (of soda, surprisingly), and then stood up.

Mrs. Chartha had lit a fire in the giant fireplace opposite Sarah's huge, canopied bed. She stood, wiped her sooty hands on her apron, and started collecting Sarah's dinnerware. Sarah cast her gaze out the window and noted the darkness of the skies. She wondered if Jareth would still be awake, and asked Mrs. Chartha.

"'Is Majesty's always awake, and you can find 'im in 'is study. 'E's always up to summat in there."

"Would you please show me the way to his study, Mrs. Chartha? If it's not too much of an inconvenience, that is." Sarah got the impression that Mrs. Chartha wasn't in the least bit thrilled to be tending her, and she didn't want to impose anymore than she had to.

Mrs. Chartha gave Sarah a penetrating look before saying, "It's on me way. Follow me."

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Jareth leaned against the side of his study window, twirling three crystals in one hand absently, his thoughts elsewhere. A partial solution had come to him, one that was dubious at best, but it had a simple logic that he couldn't ignore. From his position at the window, he could see the entire eastern quadrant of his Labyrinth, and within it, the darkness. Although night had fallen and what he could see of the Labyrinth was due to a few beams of pale moonlight, he could still clearly see the darkness. It sat malevolently, comfortably cloaked in the inky night, waiting, taunting him. He would find a way to banish that darkness, he told himself again. He had to.

His head turned when a timid knock sounded at the door, and, his thoughts still dwelling on the darkness, he threw a casual, "Enter," over his shoulder. There was the sound of the door opening, soft footsteps, and then the sound of a feminine throat-clearing. Jareth immediately stood up straight and faced Sarah, the three crystals disappearing with a quick flick of his gloved hand.

"Ah, Sarah!" Jareth greeted her in a bright voice, determined to keep things light. "Good to see you again. I trust you were able to find your way without any difficulty?"

"Yes, -"

"And have your rooms proved agreeable?"

"Yes, and -"

"And your facilities met your satisfaction?"

"Yes, but -"

"And your dinner was to your liking?"

"_Yes_, Jareth, thank you." He fell silent at her use of his name. Sarah continued. "Everything is wonderful. Thank you for my clothes, the pizza, my shoe – it was all very thoughtful of you. You've gone to a lot of trouble for me and I want you to know that I really appreciate it." Sarah stopped, her gratitude sounding awkward and gauche to her ears, not to mention she'd had the audacity to address a king by his Christian name, if indeed they had Christian names in the Underground, which Sarah doubted.

Jareth belatedly realized she had stopped talking and supplied the expected response, "You're welcome. Please have a seat." He indicated a leather-upholstered wooden chair facing his desk.

Sarah did as she was asked and looked around the room. She'd never been in a study before. A library, yes. An office, yes. This room seemed to be a combination of the two. Bookshelves lined the wall, crammed with leather-bound volumes and wax-sealed scrolls. His great, ornately-carved wooden desk dominated one side of the room, and it itself was dominated by towering stacks of opened scrolls, slips of parchment, and ancient tomes. The room was lit by tiny orbs of light hovering just below the ceiling.

Jareth walked to the opposite side of the desk and began clearing away the clutter. A few waves of his hand later and several neat stacks of books, resealed scrolls, and piles of ordered parchment sailed off the desk to land somewhere behind Sarah. Sarah couldn't keep the fascination off of her face as she saw him exercise his magic. It was so exciting to see real_magic!_

Jareth sat in his chair, facing Sarah from across a desk that now held one scroll of parchment, an ink well, and a few quills. He tented his hands and addressed her. "No doubt you have found the Labyrinth much changed since your visit before." Sarah nodded; he continued. "Here is a list of everything that has happened since you left eight months ago." He handed her the scroll of parchment. "I don't expect you to read it now, or to read all of it, but if you are curious about just what has transpired, that is your best resource."

Sarah took it and looked it over before saying, "I'm sure it is, but Jareth…I can't read it." Sarah held the paper up and he could see his neat writing. Of course, she couldn't read it; it wasn't written in English.

"My apologies, Sarah. I have forgotten myself. It's written in Slyven, which of course you can't read. Here." He conjured a crystal and rolled it across the desk. Before she could touch it, it became a silver pendant, similar to Jareth's but much smaller, on a simple chain. "If you wear that, I think you'll find you'll be able to read any text and understand any spoken language here in the Underground."

"Thank you. But why is it I can understand goblins, and Hoggle, and my other friends, and you without this translator?" Sarah put on the pendant, pulling her slightly damp hair out of the way so the chain rested comfortably around her neck.

Jareth looked away from the mesmerizing sight of her long, chestnut hair. "That's part of a spell I cast when you first came to the Labyrinth. I cast it without your knowledge, but – and I think you will agree – it undoubtedly worked in your favor." Ah, there was the awkward silence he hadn't been missing.

Sarah sat back in her chair, unsure if he was deliberately bating her or if he hadn't meant anything by it. She decided to ignore it, partly. "Yes, and speaking of that, I spoke with Hoggle today and he – as you have informed me – said that eight months had passed since I was last here in the Underground-"

"But considerably more time has passed in the Aboveground, correct?" Jareth cut in.

"Yes," said Sarah, relieved that he knew what she was talking about, "eight years. Is that normal?" Sarah wasn't going to take it for granted that time should be the same in both worlds.

"No, it is not normal. I myself wasn't aware of the discrepancy until you arrived today," _Liar_, he thought to himself, "But now that I am aware, I have discerned what I think is the cause. For whatever reason, I believe your triumph eight months – or years – ago triggered the change in time. I can tell you that the situation has since been rectified. That is, our two worlds have returned to the same passage of time."

"How did you fix it?"

"I didn't. You did. Somehow, by returning here, you have restored time to its rightful flow. I see by your puzzled expression that that was unintentional on your part." He smiled to let her know he was teasing and his heart gave a little jolt when she returned his smile. How was it she could still affect him so?! It wasn't fair, and that thought threatened to bring an ironic grin to his features. Before it could, Sarah spoke.

"Could you have fixed time? If I remember, you said that you had reordered time…" She let her sentence trail away, unwilling to refer directly to something that had caused him pain.

She needn't have bothered; Jareth knew exactly what she was referring to. "I can reorder time; that much is true. But no, I couldn't have fixed a problem of that magnitude. It is beyond my power."

Sarah couldn't help but wonder how if it was beyond his power, how _she_ had managed to right time.

"It doesn't make sense, not with what we currently know, and we can only hope that we discover the reasons. But for now, let us turn to the immediate situation: the Labyrinth. You have told me that you want to help."

Sarah nodded, leaning forward in her chair, his scroll clutched in her fingers.

"Well, I suppose this is the part where I tell you just what to do, but I can't. I don't know what to do. I have an idea, and that's what we'll start with, if it is amenable to you. I suggest we travel through the Labyrinth. Tomorrow, we can start at the north city gate and see what happens. I know it doesn't seem likely to do anything, but things are not always what they seem." Jareth wasn't sure why he wasn't telling Sarah all the details of his plan. He didn't know why he was keeping the logic he'd discovered a secret, but it was done, and amazingly, she was nodding in agreement.

"Tomorrow, then. Will any of my friends be joining us?" Although Sarah had seen Hoggle just a few hours ago, she was anxious to see Ludo and Sir Didymus.

Jareth had a different thought: of course she wouldn't want to spend the day alone with him, and he'd been a fool to suggest it. Jareth stood, feeling their meeting drawing to a close. "That can be arranged, if you wish. I will ask Sir Didymus and the silicant Ludo, as well as your dwarf friend … Hedgewart, to accompany us tomorrow."

Jareth's deliberate confusion of Hoggle's name drew another smile to Sarah's face. She stood, and raised the scroll in her hand. "May I hold on to this for a few days?"

"Of course, keep it as long as you like." Jareth sensed her hesitancy to leave and made a stab at the reason why. "Shall I show you the way back to your rooms?"

"Please. I'm afraid I don't quite know my way around your castle yet."

Jareth opened the door and gestured for her to precede him into the hallway. He struck a leisurely pace and she fell into step beside him.

After a few moments of silence Sarah asked, "What's a 'silicant'?"

"A silicant is a creature that bears the ability to call rocks. As far as I know, Ludo is the only one of his kind."

Sarah nodded. In the chilly hallway, she could feel the heat emanating from him and it sent heady shivers down her spine. A few minutes of harmless small talk later and they arrived at Sarah's door. Jareth gave a courtly bow and said, "Goodnight, Sarah."

Sarah, unsure of what the proper protocol was for bidding a king goodnight, if such a protocol existed, simply said, "Goodnight, Jareth. Sweet dreams." She then ducked into her room, closing the door quickly behind her. When Jareth was safely out of sight, she let her body go slack against the door, exhaling greatly. It was good she had requested the company of her friends tomorrow; a day alone with Jareth would be…dangerous. He was so different than she remembered, no longer taunting and sneering. Instead, he was attentive to her every need, doing his best to make her comfortable. The fact that he was as gorgeous as ever didn't help matters. No wonder she'd never been able to keep a meaningful relationship: no mortal man could ever compare to Jareth.

Banishing those thoughts, she readied herself for sleep. Nights were always hard for her, the empty silence before she slipped away into her dreams always made her feel so dreadfully alone. Tonight was no different, and she found herself thinking longingly of her family. What were they doing this very minute? What sort of excuse had Jareth conjured for her absence?

Sarah sighed. Strangely, her thoughts of family didn't dispel her loneliness. Sitting up, Sarah parted the curtains around her bed so she could have an unobstructed view of the night sky to tempt her into sleep. She was just in time to see a snowy white owl fly away from her balcony.


	9. Chapter 9

_Author's note: Standard disclaimer still applies. Thank you to anyone who reads this, and an especially big 'thank you' to those who have reviewed, you've no idea how happy your reviews make me. Any new reviewers and reviews will be greatly appreciated!_

Sarah turned right onto the second corridor from her room. She'd tried to memorize the directions Mrs. Chartha had given her to find Jareth. She'd told Sarah, in a clipped voice, that, "'Is Majesty's meeting with the dwarves in the great 'all." At Sarah's confused look, she'd added, "You go right, two corridors down, up the left'and stairs, past the scullery, left after the fif' door…" She'd continued speaking as she left the room, Sarah's tray perched precariously on her head. Sarah'd struggled to hear the rest, but by the time Mrs. Chartha had finished, she'd been too far away. So, Sarah decided she'd follow the directions as best she could and wing it after that. After all, she told herself, the castle was surrounded by a Labyrinth and not one itself.

Thirty minutes later, Sarah rescinded her prior thought: the castle _was_ a Labyrinth. That's the second time I've passed that funny little goblin statue, thought Sarah. Looking around, she selected a random door and, finding it unlocked, quickly passed through it. Right into a broom closet. She backed out of the closet, opened the next door and found herself at the top of a flight of stairs. Down she went, following the curve of the stone steps until she emerged into Jareth's empty throne room. Sarah sighed with relief. From here she'd have a much better chance of finding her way to the great hall. Hadn't Hoggle walked her there yesterday?

Emboldened by the familiar path, Sarah quickened her steps until she stepped into the noisy and active great hall, or Foyer-ville, as she decided to call it. It was as busy as before, and she scanned the hall for Jareth. She found him at a tented-home beside the smithy. He was kneeling down, deep in conversation with a bonneted dwarf-woman. Sarah caught a few words of their conversation.

"…And how long has he been like this?" Jareth peered into the tent, concern written plainly on his features.

"Ever since he got back. He's been on the bottle while his brother, Duggle over there, has to work the forge alone." Her last statement was spoken with a pointed emphasis towards the tent, as if this woman was indirectly chastising whoever was inside.

"I see," said Jareth. He stood for a moment, one arm across his chest and a hand at his mouth in a gesture of thoughtfulness, and then, his mind made up, he knelt back down and entered the tent.

Sarah listened to the muffled voices coming from inside the tent while racking her brains trying to recall where she'd heard that name before. It wasn't a normal name, not in the Aboveground at least. Perhaps from a book? Yes – that parchment she'd read over last night. Duggle was the brother of one of the dwarves that had disappeared into the darkness. He'd been part of the search party, with Jareth and another dwarf…Daggle? Interesting name. That was who must be in the tent now, and the dwarf-woman waiting outside the tent flaps, her hands worrying the hem of her apron, must be Daggle's wife.

Before she could appreciate the terrible loss this family of dwarves had recently experienced, Jareth emerged from the tent, and behind him, a tottering, bleary-eyed dwarf. Jareth was speaking.

"Mariah, if you would just escort your husband over to the apothecary, I think he's in need of one of Mr. Bisby's elixirs. After that, I'm sure Daggle will feel up to returning to work."

Mariah nodded her thanks, draped her husband's arm over her shoulder and together, they staggered away. Jareth raised his hand in salute to Duggle working on the bellows, and then stood in silence. His expression was brooding and dark; his stance stiff and unapproachable.

Sarah turned away before he could see how she'd been eavesdropping on him. She walked back the way she came, between two booths selling baked goods and dried meats. By the time she joined the traffic on the main thoroughfare, Jareth had composed himself. When his eyes alighted upon Sarah, he approached her. As he did, Sarah couldn't help but notice the way his jacket fit his body perfectly. His tights too.

"Good morning, Sarah. Did you find your way here without difficulty?" The tone was the same bright one he'd used in his greeting last night, and his smile was an impenetrable mask. Sarah was beginning to understand how tight a reign he kept on his emotions.

"Yes," Sarah lied.

"Excellent. I should be finished here in a few moments, so perhaps you'd like to wait outside. I think you'll find three familiar faces waiting for you." As Sarah caught his meaning, her excitement must have shown because Jareth's face relaxed into a genuine smile. "I'm sure you don't want to keep your friends waiting."

Sarah turned to go, but turned back just as quickly to ask, "You'll join us shortly?"

Her question caught Jareth off guard. He was at a loss for words, and all he could manage was a nod. It seemed to suffice as Sarah turned again and pushed through the large wooden doors. Jareth watched her go, his eyes taking in her every step until she was swallowed by the dull morning light outside. Shaking his head as if that could dislodge his thoughts, Jareth returned to his duties. He was due at the tanners', located far away from everyone else due to the inherent stench of the trade.

Sarah chose to go right when she stepped out into the grey morning. She scanned the nearly-empty streets for any sign of her friends. Given Ludo's giant size, they should have been easy to spot. As it was, Sarah heard them long before she saw them.

"..I say, brother, I'm quite ready for another adventure. These months of peace and tranquility have weighed most heavily on me. It will be a relief to face danger, to draw on courage and nobility, to chase down blackguards and villains with the strength of knighted steel…"

"Ludo … ready."

"Pipe down you lot. Jareth said to wait here; she'll be out soon."

"Our liege was very specific in his requests. What do you suppose he's got planned for us, eh? A bit of reconnaissance? Intrigue? Mortal peril?"

"Don't get your hopes up. It's going to be just like he said. We're to go with them into Labyrinth and nose around. See what happens."

"Nose around, you say? Just our luck then that I am well prized for my olfactory prowess! But, brother Hoggle, King Jareth surely must have imparted more instructions than that? As I recall, your discourse was rather lengthy. His majesty seemed almost angry with you"

"That's none of yer business so you keep yer nose out of it."

"Sar-wah! Sar-wah…friend!" Ludo had finally seen Sarah standing behind them, and he lumbered over quickly to hug her.

"Ludo! Oh, I've missed you!" Sarah returned his hug with fervor, and then turned to Sir Didymus.

"My lady, it gives me great pleasure to see thee again. I-"

Whatever Sir Didymus was about to say was lost in the quick embrace Sarah gave him. Before Hoggle could add anything, she'd hugged him too. "It's so wonderful to see all of you again!" And it was. While Sarah'd spoken with Hoggle several times over the years, she'd not seen Ludo or Sir Didymus since the night she brought Toby home. They both looked the same, Ludo with his reddish-orange, shaggy fur and innocent eyes and Sir Didymus, clad as the classic Arthurian knight atop his white steed Ambrosius. At least her friends seemed unchanged by the darkness spreading through the Labyrinth, both literally and otherwise.

When the joy of their reunion faded a bit, Sarah noticed how gloomy the day was. The entire city seemed to be lacking in luster, vitality, and life. As if she could brighten their surroundings, Sarah's tone was carefully light as she asked, "So, we're to 'nose around a bit'?"

"You heard that, did you?" Hoggle asked.

Sarah nodded. "I couldn't resist eavesdropping. By the way, why was Jareth angry with you?" Sarah was simply teasing him, trying to pass the time with a good-natured jest. She never expected him to answer, not honestly at least.

"Oh that? He told me off for leavin' you to those kids, like you couldn't take care of yourself." He made an inarticulate noise after his revelation, almost a "bleh," but not quite, its purpose to indicate incredulity or something like.

Sarah didn't have anything to add; she felt 'bleh' adequately covered the matter. To cover her disquiet, she looked around the city again. Down the empty street to her right, down the empty street behind Sir Didymus. Before she could look down another empty street, she felt a faint difference in the air, a slight reordering of things, and turned back to her right: Jareth was there.

As he walked forward, Sarah noticed that he had a modest bag strapped to his back via one strap running diagonally across his chest. All he needed was a helmet, and he could have passed for a biker. Whether or not he could actually fit his hair into a helmet was immaterial to Sarah's pondering. A stray thought about how he could wear boots with stiletto heels and still look deliciously masculine passed briefly through her mind.

Jareth stopped when he was directly in front of them. He gave Sarah a slight nod in greeting and then said, "Shall we get on with it?"

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A few hours later, Jareth mused about their current situation. What a strange party we make, he thought. The last time these four were together, their sole purpose was to outsmart and defeat me. And they did. But now here we are, all on the same side. What fun would life be without its little ironies?

The five of them had fallen into a regular formation when they entered the Labyrinth: Jareth and Sir Didymus led the way, followed by Hoggle and Sarah, and Ludo brought up the rear. For the most part they were silent, keeping their eyes and ears trained on their surroundings, prepared for whatever may come. Sir Didymus occasionally supplied a running commentary filled with references to enemies he'd vanquished and his hopes for a perilous adventure. Hoggle grumbled now and then. Sarah, Jareth noted, remained completely silent. He'd resisted the urge to walk beside her, and he was constantly fighting the desire to look back at her. It would be so easy, he thought. Just a casual turn of his head, a glance over his right shoulder, but he wouldn't let himself.

Sarah examined the cracked ground at her feet. All around was disrepair and neglect. The stone walls were covered in dead vines and drooping fungi. Through the gloom, she could see how it stretched on endlessly. Miles and miles of nothing but disorder and ruin. Ever since she'd set foot in the Labyrinth this morning, she'd felt an overwhelming depression settle on her shoulders. The feelings of sorrow, dejection, wretchedness, abandonment – together they constricted her throat and made speech impossible. The utter despondency she felt now was such that her loneliness of the night before paled in comparison. As she'd done last night, Sarah thought of her family. What were they doing right now? Did they miss her? Did they know what she was doing? Did they care? Would Toby care when he came home from school and she wasn't there to help him with his English homework? Would Karen care when Sarah wasn't there to help with dinner? Would her father miss her when he came home from work and needed to relax? Sarah wished she could see her family, that she could reassure herself with their familiar faces and routines. Perhaps that might dissipate the sadness she felt.

Ludo interrupted the silence with, "Ludo…see." What he saw was anyone's guess, but he raised one gargantuan arm and pointed to a stationary pool of water some meters to their right.

Hoggle was quick to dismiss Ludo's concerns, telling him to "Quiet down! It was probably yer own reflection."

Jareth held out a hand to silence Hoggle. "I saw it too, and it wasn't his reflection." He approached the pool, motioning for the others to stay behind him. Sarah followed closely on his heels, quietly shushing Sir Didymus. They reached the border of the pool and stared into its murky waters. Nothing. Not even a ripple.

Her voice a whisper, Sarah asked, "What did you see, Jareth?"

"I don't know. A shifting of light over the surface, a hint of movement. I can't be sure what it was, but it's gone now." Jareth stepped back from the pool and looked towards the sky. The sun, from its cloud-covered position, was just past its zenith. "Let's rest for a bit, partake of some lunch, and then head back to the city."

"Retreat?! So early? So untried? Never! We must press on! We must endure! We must-"

Jareth silenced the zealous knight with a look. "It's past midday. I'd rather not be caught in the Labyrinth after dark, if it's all the same to you, Sir Didymus."

The chastised-knight recovered himself quickly, making a quest out of finding Sarah a suitable seat. After much deliberation, he finally took off his cloak and spread it on the ground near Ludo, and gestured for Sarah to sit. Jareth unstrapped the bag from his back and was preparing to unveil its contents when he noticed that Sarah hadn't moved. She was standing at the edge of the pool, her eyes directed at the surface but her gaze far beyond. He stood beside her and called her name quietly. Standing so close to her, Jareth noted with concern the pallor of her skin. He called her name again, louder this time, and touched her shoulder. That did the trick; her eyes lost their dazed look and she turned her head to look at him.

Jareth asked quietly, "Are you well?"

Sarah nodded, "I'm fine." She caught Sir Didymus's increasingly erratic motions out of the corner of her eye and hurried to oblige him.

Jareth let her go but resolved to keep an eye on her, purely for her sake, he lied to himself. To keep himself from dwelling on Sarah, Jareth returned to his pack, drawing out two loaves of bread, a wheel of cheese wrapped in parchment, and several apples. He tossed the first loaf of bread to Ludo, and then used a spare knife to slice the remaining loaf and the cheese. Jareth handed everyone a slice of each, along with an apple. Sarah set the bread and cheese aside and contemplated her apple. Its green skin, with just a faint blush of rosy pink, promised a much different taste than the last fruit she'd eaten in the Labyrinth. Pushing that thought aside, she bit into her apple, letting the tart taste distract her from the dolor crushing down on her.

She didn't know why she felt so out-of-herself, so abstracted. If Jareth hadn't gotten her attention, she might have stared at that pool for hours, unaware of the passage of time. What was wrong with her? First the inexplicable depression and now this absent-mindedness? Jareth must have sensed that something wasn't right, but she'd be damned if she gave him something else to worry about. She was fine; she could deal with this. Sarah took another bite of her apple, savoring its flavor. A trickle of juice ran down her chin and she raised her hand to wipe it away. As she did, she looked at Jareth. He was sitting cross-legged on the ground, his back ramrod-straight as always. Even out here, he managed to look dignified. Sarah watched as he took a bite of his apple. He mirrored her action of before, raising a black-gloved hand to wipe away a wayward trace of juice. Dignified, yes, Sarah thought, but never before had he looked so human.

Hoggle had finished his bread and cheese, and had eaten his apple down to the pips. Shrugging his shoulders, he popped that into his mouth too, chewing contentedly. Sir Didymus raised his slice of cheese to his nose as if he could discern the region of origin by scent. Given the fact that he couldn't smell anything in the Bog of Eternal Stench, Sarah rather doubted he'd have much luck with the cheese. Ambrosius was chewing on what looked like a strip of dried meat while Ludo finished his loaf, smacking his jaws in obvious thirst. Sarah wondered if the water in the dirty pool would be safe for consumption, but decided in the negative. Another option presented itself when Jareth pulled a full waterskin out of his bag, and tossed it to Hoggle. When everyone had had a sip, Ludo was allowed to finish it.

Jareth wrapped up the remnants of their picnic and stowed it away in his pack, which he slung over his shoulder as he stood. The rest of them followed suit, readying themselves for the trek back. Sarah stretched, reveling in the activity and the brief moment of clarity it brought. After her lunch and some rest, she didn't feel nearly as bad as before.

An hour later, she took it back: she felt worse. Sarah no longer bothered with searching for the source of the despair she felt; it was hard enough to suffer through it while resolutely putting one foot in front of the other. She saw Jareth send her a quick glance over his shoulder, and kept her face neutral. Why should he have to worry about her? He had enough on his plate. Because of her. It was a wonder he could bear to be near her. She was the source of his woes. The creatures that had disappeared into the darkness – her fault. All those dwarf villages crammed uncomfortably into Jareth's foyer – her fault. Daggle the dwarf's grief that had turned him from his wife and brother – her fault. The guilt she felt was compounded by her inability to think of anything she could do to fix it. Why had Jareth asked her to come? He didn't know what to do. He couldn't tell her how to help. All he could say was that she had done this. It was all her fault. And now he was parading her through the Labyrinth, inviting whatever lurked in the crumbling stone walls to look and stare their fill at the woman who had wrecked their lives. And after they got out of the Labyrinth, they'd be back in the city, back in the foyer. How could she go back? How could she face all those dwarves when she was the reason they'd had to leave their homes behind? How could she cheer up those goblin-children when she was the reason they were barred from their entertainment? Panic rose within Sarah, growing with every step she took toward the city gates.

Jareth tossed another, what he hoped was casual, look over his shoulder at Sarah. The brooding expression on her face was still there, and instead of lessening, her pallor had deepened. Just a few more minutes, he said in his mind. A few more minutes and we'll be out of the Labyrinth. The gates to the city were directly ahead; all they had to do was to keep walking. Just a few more minutes. Jareth resisted the temptation to quicken his pace, to hurry to the gates. There was no need to rush, to display his disquiet so plainly. In all his years as King, he'd never felt so unwelcome in this Labyrinth. He might have been imagining it, but every step they took towards the gates brought a thickening of the air, a gathering of potential. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end; the atmosphere was charged with power. The sky changed from grey-green to an ever-darkening blackness. The path to the gates lengthened before them. It was as if the Labyrinth didn't want them to leave and was making its desires known.

"Getting a bit dodgy, in't? Don't like the look of those clouds, to tell you the truth," Hoggle said.

"Ludo…scared." Jareth couldn't agree more.

"Quicken pace; we're almost there," Jareth bit out tersely. Everyone double-timed it, everyone that is, except for Sarah.

Why should she hurry to leave the Labyrinth? The current, foreboding atmosphere was likely to be the gentlest reception she'd ever have in the Underground. Why should she rush toward the very sign of her guilt? No, thank you. Mr. High-and mighty-Goblin-King couldn't tell her what to do; he didn't have any power over her. The alien resentment and rebellion rose within Sarah, prompting her to curb her pace.

"Sar-wah," Ludo called. Jareth turned back to see what the matter was and saw Sarah slowing down. Ludo wouldn't go forward without her. Sir Didymus urged his steed around and was trying to get her attention. Even Hoggle had turned around. Sarah ignored their earnest attempts to get her attention. Her expression had changed from brooding to defiant, the wanness of her skin lending her a touch of the unreal.

Jareth gave the menacing sky a quick glance before he made his decision. Sarah wasn't well; something had her in its grips and they needed to get her out of here. He turned around and grabbed her arm, prepared to drag her out if need be; he would see her safe inside the city walls. The moment he touched her there was a blinding flash of lighting followed by a roar of thunder. "Sarah, move!" Jareth shouted. The skies opened up and hail pelted down at them, and still Sarah resisted. Jareth yelled at Hoggle, Sir Didymus, and Ludo, raising his voice in order to be heard over the din of the thunder, "Run! Go, get to the gates! Leave her to me!" He must have been convincing because they didn't waste any time in racing towards the city gates.

Jareth tried dragging Sarah again; she dug her heels in, refusing to take one more step out of the Labyrinth. Jareth couldn't magically whisk her out of there, not without her permission, which she seemed incapable of giving in her present state. With no alternative, Jareth transferred his grip, one arm across her back and the other under her knees, lifting her up. Her attempts to free herself were feeble, allowing him to concentrate on getting them the hell out of there. The ground trembled beneath his feet as the thunder reached deafening heights. Just a few meters ahead, the trio of friends broke through the city gates, which were swinging back and forth tauntingly. Ludo grabbed a hold of the left hand door and wrenched it off its hinges, leaving the way clear for Jareth to sprint into the city, Sarah safe in his arms.

The city was gloriously bright and quiet compared to the tempest in the Labyrinth. Wanting as much a barrier between them and that gale, Jareth charged Ludo to "Put the door back and bar it!" While Ludo did as he was told, Jareth forcefully slowed his breaths, willing his pulse to stop racing. Sarah shifted in his arms and it was with profound relief that he noted her healthy complexion and focused eyes. Jareth set Sarah on her feet and then immediately sagged against the city wall, relief making his posture slack.

Sarah's head felt so clear it was almost dizzying. A moment ago, she'd been consumed by panic, rebellion, guilt, and anger, each emotion narrowing her consciousness further and further until she'd been aware only of dim sounds and shapes. Now, she heard and saw everything with startling clarity. Ludo was barring the city gate. Hoggle was seated on a rock, panting. Sir Didymus was coaxing a trembling Ambrosius out of hiding. And then there was Jareth, resting with his back propped up on the city wall, trying to catch his breath. As she watched, he slid down the wall until he was nearly seated, his legs doubled up under him, his head back against the wall, and his eyes closed.

Sarah waited until he got his breathing under control and then she asked the question she had to ask: "Jareth, what just happened?"

Jareth opened his eyes and met her gaze head-on. His answer was frighteningly simple: "I don't know."


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's note: Another chapter for your reading pleasure. Standard disclaimer still applies. Thank you to all of my reviewers - you wield more power in one or two words that I could ever hope to possess. _

Jareth put his quill down and rubbed the throbbing pain at his temples. The day could not have gone worse, even if he had planned it. When he'd entered the Labyrinth this morning, he'd been filled with the foolish hope that somehow things would change for the better. Jareth hadn't thought it out enough to think of actual things that would improve, and maybe if he had, he would have realized sooner how illogical an idea it was. Perhaps then he would never have gone through with it.

But he had gone through with it. And now he had to endure the penalty for action: once done, it couldn't be undone. And look at what he'd done. He'd caused more harm today than any one day since this mess began. Instead of reacting positively to Sarah's presence, the Labyrinth had become violently dangerous, prompting him to issue orders for the mandatory evacuation of the entire Labyrinth. There was no way he'd let any of his citizens remain there, not after today's events; it wasn't safe. The advisors that hadn't been dispatched to issue his orders were busy now, readying other parts of the castle for habitation. Still others were gathering teams of strong, brave volunteers from among dwarves and goblins alike to venture into the Labyrinth and salvage what was left of their crops. He had, perhaps, been fortunate that the darkness had chosen to darken the Eastern quadrant of his Labyrinth; little agricultural activity took place there, and no shortage of food had resulted. But now, after today, the only source of fresh food would be from what was grown in the goblin city. That would sustain his kingdom for, what…a few months? It was a liberal estimate, and Jareth knew it.

After all that, the news that the darkness had expanded its borders by at least ten meters in some directions, and more in others, had been mere icing on the cake. A very dull, depressing cake. Bit-by-bit, the Labyrinth was strangling its inhabitants, cutting off every exit, every escape, until they were all trapped. But where would they go if they weren't trapped? Who could Jareth turn to for help? The Underground had cast them out, content to let them reside in the middle of a barren desert as long as they never showed their faces anywhere else in the Underground. For Jareth, it had been a personal choice, but for everyone else, for all the dwarves, trolls, goblins, ogres, gnomes, and other creatures emotionlessly labeled as monsters by the rest of the Underground, for them, it hadn't been a choice; if they hadn't joined him, they would have been eradicated. As it was they were already close to extinction; years confined to the Labyrinth and their own company had dwindled their populations, until only dwarves, goblins, and a handful of other creatures remained.

But what did that matter now? He was no closer to finding an answer now than he had been eight months ago. But unlike then, when he'd had an indeterminate amount of time to find a solution, he only had a few months now. After that, their food supply would vanish, and they couldn't live on water alone. All that he had fought for a thousand years ago would have been in vain. The creatures he had tried to shelter, they would disappear, un-mourned and unremembered, save by him. He alone might survive, and then only because of his immortality, which he would rather give up than return to his position in the greater Underground.

Why hadn't he prepared for this? Simple: the Labyrinth had chosen to save him and all those who followed him a millennium ago. It had been the Labyrinth who'd reached out to them, the outcast children, rescued them from the unfeeling landscape, given them a place to make their final, successful stand. He'd never dreamed that those walls, the first place he'd ever truly called home, would turn on him. He should have remembered that the Labyrinth was part of the Underground and as such, it could embrace him one moment, and hunt him into nonexistence the next.

Jareth longed for those days, a thousand years ago, when he had wielded a blade of forged steel and his own magic in defense of his people against a known enemy. If he could settle the current crisis by shedding his own blood, he'd gladly do it. He involuntarily flexed his gloved hand, remembering the feel of his weapon and the physical pain of injury. What hope did he have against an enemy that was as mysterious as it was malevolent?

And the worst thing about today was that he'd put Sarah in danger. _Ah, Sarah_; her name was a sigh. She was the only light in this time. She had been the only person he could turn to for help. Jareth amended his prior thought: he'd rather be here with Sarah beside him, facing an inscrutable adversary than back in time a thousand years, when all he'd had was the dream of her. He could give it all up now, let it slip through his fingers, if she would only look at him again the way she had this morning, when she'd asked him to join her soon. It was foolish of him. It went beyond foolishness into lunacy, to put her above all else, since she had caused this crisis. Especially since she had done so by refusing his love. But Jareth, logical and precise in all things else, was no match for his own heart.

But he would still try. He'd only begun the first part of his plan this morning, walking Sarah through just a taste of the Labyrinth. But now, after seeing the Labyrinth's reaction, how could he continue? But there was something in that: why had the Labyrinth objected so strongly and unleashed hell on them? Why today, and not any of the days before? The only thing that had changed was that Sarah was there. Jareth was never surer that she was the cause of the problem, not after seeing how her mere presence excited the Labyrinth so. But what could he make of that? It was clear that Sarah did have an affect on the Labyrinth, a greater one than he could ever hope to have, albeit a negative one. Could he turn that savage tempest into a solution? Was there any room for hope?

Jareth felt it, that indefatigable, naïve part of him rising up, buffeted by the winds of hope, ripe for another foolhardy adventure, and destined to plummet into despair. With it, the throbbing in his temples increased, and he dropped his head into his hands, willing it to end. In that position, with the blood pounding in his ears, he didn't hear the knock on the door, or the opening of the door. He didn't hear her enter, and it wasn't until she spoke that he even knew she was there.

The first thing Sarah saw as she entered the room was Jareth, hunched over his desk, his head in his hands, his entire body the very sign of defeat. To see him laid so bare was unnerving, and she had a very strong urge to turn back and pretend she'd never been there, but she had a purpose and she was not to be distracted from it.

"Jareth?" He bolted upright at the sound of her voice, somewhat startled. "I knocked, but I didn't hear anything…" Sarah's voice trailed off into an unformed question.

"Of course you did; I was preoccupied and I didn't hear you. Come in. What's that you have there?" Jareth stood as she approached, adjusting his jacket and gloves.

Sarah came forward and presented him with a scroll, the one he'd recorded all the problems on. "I thought you might need this, after today." She set it on the desk when he didn't move to take it from her.

"Thank you; I was going to send for it, but now you've saved me the trouble. Please sit down; this will only take a few moments." Sarah did as asked, and watched as he returned to his seat and unfurled the scroll. In one fluid motion, he picked up a quill, dipped it into an inkwell, and began to write. Sarah noted how fine his penmanship was, and although she could understand what it said, the script was alien to her, a series of swirls and flourishes that had no business bearing such dark news. Not for the first time, Sarah noticed Jareth's gloves, and wondered why he wore them; she'd never seen his bare hands before.

Realizing that she was staring, Sarah looked to her own hands, which were absently worrying the hem of her shirt. She was nervous. She had several things she wanted to say to him, but had no idea how to say them. Jareth had saved her from the Labyrinth, physically carried her in his arms to get her out of there. Sarah wished she could remember more of it, more of the feel of his surprisingly strong arms and warm chest. She wanted to thank him for saving her, but she couldn't think of a way to phrase it. She couldn't just say '_Thank you for saving me, you're my hero!_' He'd think her an idiot. She also wanted to apologize. What had happened today had been her fault- undeniably so. She was the reason that they'd had to run for their lives from the Labyrinth. She'd put her friends in danger; she had put Jareth in danger. Not only because she'd been too weak to fight whatever it was that had taken hold of her, but also because she had started the entire thing. If she'd never wished Toby away, none of this would have ever happened. The Underground would be the same. The Labyrinth would be the same. Her friends would have continued their lives. And Jareth would never have been so care-worn. As for herself, well, she'd have never known what she was missing, right? Sarah's guilt intensified because she knew that if she'd had it to do over again, she would have made the same choices. Her life would not have been complete without all of …this.

"What's bothering you, Sarah?" She jumped at the sound of his voice, abruptly pulled from her thoughts. Jareth had put his quill down and was now surveying her with a pair of very guarded eyes.

Where should she begin? "Nothing. I just…I just wanted to thank you for today. For helping me, I mean. I don't know what came over me." After her hesitant beginning, Sarah felt a torrent of words trying to escape her and continued without pause, " I'm sorry for putting you in that position. I'm sorry for putting my friends in danger. I'm sorry for burdening you more than you already are. I'm sorry for the Labyrinth. I'm sorry for everything. I'm-" Sarah's voice thickened, and she looked back down at her hands so he wouldn't see the ill-timed tears brimming in her downcast eyes.

"Sarah, stop!" His voice was harsh to her ears, and she fell silent. And then Jareth was there, taking her hands between his gloved ones. He sat facing her, their knees just inches apart. "Don't blame yourself. This isn't your fault. If anyone's to blame, it's me." His voice was calm, almost soothing, and his hands were warm. He used one hand to tilt her head up, so she met his eyes. "Say you understand, Sarah. This isn't your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for." He was sincere, and that made it all the more harder for Sarah not to lose control of her tears.

She nodded, mastering her emotions with enormous strength of will. She took a breath as he removed his hands and said, "You're a good friend, Jareth."

It was good for Jareth that he'd let go of her hands, otherwise she have known by the involuntary spasm that passed through him just how much her words affected him. He had no other way to respond than with honesty. "Thank you." He sat fully back in his chair, changing gears in his mind. "Now about today, something obviously did come over you and we need to figure out what. I need you to tell me everything you remember. Anything you remember seeing, thinking, feeling. Anything at all. Don't withhold a single detail."

Sarah mirrored his posture and after taking a restorative breath, began. "This morning started out well. I found you, then my friends, and then we left. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, aside from all the gloom. I can't say exactly when it started, but it wasn't long after we entered the Labyrinth when I started feeling ill. Not ill as in sick, just a more general, psychological ill. I felt depressed, inexplicably sad and abandoned."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jareth withheld adding an accusatory note to his query.

Sarah looked back down at her hands. "I didn't want to worry you. You have enough to deal with; I felt I could handle a little melancholy."

Jareth leaned forward, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair, tenting his hands before him. "Indeed. Then what happened?"

"Then you and Ludo saw something in the water. I felt drawn to that pool, inexplicably entranced by it, until you broke the spell. I remember not feeling as sad then; I felt more myself, especially when we stopped for lunch and rested. But on the way back, it got worse. First the depression came back, and then there was panic. I felt terrified about leaving the Labyrinth. I almost felt like…that is…" How could she say what she felt without sounding accusatory?

"Whatever it is, just say it. Please."

Well, since he insisted. "I felt like I was being judged, like I was being put on parade, the girl who had ruined the Labyrinth. I know that wasn't the case. I had an irrational fear of the dwarves in your foyer – that you were going to loose them on me for wrecking their lives. After that, I remember seeing and hearing less, almost like walking through a fog. Sometime later, you said to hurry, and I felt so …angry. I remember wondering why I should rush just so you could feed me to the wolves. I don't know what it was that came over me, but it was like someone had invaded my thoughts, determined to make me not want to leave the Labyrinth. I dimly remember you shouting, and the sound of distant thunder. I didn't want to leave; I think I tried to prevent you from helping me. The next thing I remember is being in the city, my mind perfectly clear. I asked you what had happened and you said-"

"That I didn't know," Jareth finished. They sat in comfortable, thoughtful silence for a few moments, and then Jareth spoke. "I still don't know, but I agree with you; I think that the Labyrinth did its best to keep you within its walls. It didn't want you to leave, and it put up a powerful fight."

"You think it was the Labyrinth that did it? The Labyrinth can do that?" Sarah asked, incredulously. "It can read my thoughts, invade my mind?"

Jareth wasn't sure how to answer; he didn't know himself. "I believe it can. In my years as king, I have always sensed that the Labyrinth was more than just a maze. It has a magic of its own, and I've seen it use that magic, but I've never known it to act so possessively. That is why we can't take that risk again."

Sarah blinked. "What do you mean?"

Jareth thought it should have been quite obvious, but explained. "I mean that from now on, no one is to enter the Labyrinth. All remaining citizens are being evacuated to the castle as we speak. The Labyrinth is unsafe."

"But your plan – we're still going to continue it, right?"

"No." Jareth stood, and began pacing. "It was a foolish plan; you can see the chaos it's caused. I can't allow it to happen again."

"Exactly." Sarah stood too, turning to face Jareth. He stared back, ignorant of her meaning. "The chaos you mentioned – it's a result of going against the Labyrinth's wishes. It wanted me to stay, but I didn't, so it lashed out. How much more chaos do you think will result if we continue to deny the Labyrinth what it wants?"

"And what exactly is that?"

"Me," Sarah answered simply.

"I see," said Jareth. He thought for a moment and then said, "Well, if you intend to make yourself a sacrificial lamb, I suppose I could find a spare white gown for you to do so in. Don't worry; you needn't return it." The sarcasm positively dripped from his words.

Sarah frowned. "Jareth, I'm serious."

"Are you? Have you realized that this isn't some fairy tale? The Labyrinth isn't some dragon you can appease by a human sacrifice."

"What's your solution, then?" Sarah asked sharply. Jareth said nothing, and Sarah relented. "You see, that's why we've got to try it. We've got to find a solution."

"Thank you for reminding me, but I'm perfectly well aware of the fact that a solution is needed, but _not_ one that puts so much at risk." He sounded so distant, so cold.

"I'm not going to offer myself trussed up like some sacrificial maiden; that's not what the Labyrinth wants. It didn't try to harm me today, not physically at least. It simply wanted to keep me, in as innocent a sense as possible. If we give it what it wants, then perhaps things might change for the better."

Jareth could see the logic of her plan; he himself had arrived at a similar conclusion, but he could not go through with it. Jareth couldn't stand idly by and let Sarah put herself at risk. How could he give her up? What if she was wrong and the Labyrinth's intentions were anything but innocent? How could he ever forgive himself if something happened to her? He couldn't. Didn't she realize that? It was out of the question. Perhaps it was as simple as this: if he couldn't have her, then neither could the Labyrinth.

"Out of the question. I will not allow it. If something should happen to you…no. It is unthinkable. Besides, what if something happens to me?" Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand to silence her, and continued. "You're not going anywhere near the Labyrinth without me, so don't even think about it." He waited to see if she would challenge him; she didn't. "If you're wrong about the Labyrinth, and something does happen, what happens to the kingdom then? I have no heir. I hate to sound arrogant, but without me, this kingdom would fall into ruin, a greater one than the present state. And speaking of the present state of affairs, are you aware of what today's adventure has cost this kingdom?"

Sarah recognized the rhetorical question, and wisely held her tongue. Jareth turned away from her, his eyes directed out the window. "The darkness has grown. Even if the Labyrinth hadn't reacted so brutally, I'd still have had no choice but to evacuate everyone left within its walls. We're effectively trapped in this city, unable to penetrate the Labyrinth. We're cut off from our source of food. If you're wrong, and we go through with your plan, we could end up angering the Labyrinth even more. It might invade the city's borders, shortening the time we have left. I can't let that happen. I can't risk the lives of every man, woman, and child within this kingdom. You're not going."

Sarah watched him in silence. She could sense his frustration; it was evident in the slope of his back and in the set of his shoulders. It was painful to see; she_ had_ to do something. Deep down, Sarah felt that giving herself up to the Labyrinth was the right thing to do. She hadn't lied when she'd said the Labyrinth hadn't tried to harm her. It had gone to great lengths to convince her to say without physically harming her. If she could somehow convince it that she wasn't going anywhere; that when she left its borders, she would return, perhaps it might let her go without the great fuss it'd made today. If that didn't work, she'd simply stay in the Labyrinth. Surely it wouldn't behave so furiously if she met its demands. She wasn't afraid of the Labyrinth, not for herself. But she was terrified of what might happen if she did nothing.

"Jareth, you asked me to help, and I'm going to do just that, even if you don't agree with my methods. I'm going back into the Labyrinth with or without you, not because I want to play the heroine and not because I'm being reckless. I'm going to do it because I think it's the right thing to do." She stood behind him and added in a smaller voice, "But I'd feel much better if you'd come with me."

Jareth stood with his back to her, warring with himself. She could go on her own; he hadn't the power to prevent it. She could do as she wished, her actions unchecked, all because of those six little words. With her mind thusly made up, it would be futile to try and convince her to not go. The question now was would he be going with her, or would he not? He didn't even have to think to answer it. If she was going into danger, then he was going to be beside her, no matter what.

Sarah watched his shoulders heave as he took a deep breath, and then he turned around and faced her, surrender written in his face. In a resigned voice he said, "As you wish. I will go with you. Tomorrow."

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_Author's Addendum: Please, please review!_


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's note: Standard disclaimer still applies with one addition: the parts about Shakespeare were inspired by, surprise surprise, Shakespeare. Please review!!_

Jareth walked beside Sarah in silence, reminiscing about the first day they'd put her plan into action. She'd shown up outside his throne room on that first morning, ready to go. Not wanting to be the source of delay, Jareth had promptly followed her. Sarah had walked with purpose, surprising him with how well she'd come to know her way around his castle in the three days she'd been there. As if her path were clearly delineated before her, Sarah had led him through his castle, through the bustling foyer, out into the Goblin City, not stopping until she'd brought them face-to-face with the city gates they'd passed through the day before. Jareth had watched her every move, waiting for some show of hesitancy, a sign that perhaps she didn't want to go through with her plan after all. He'd had no such luck.

Before them had been the barred city gates, the carven boards straining sinisterly against their restraints. Jareth had stepped resolutely forward to open the doors, resisting the urge to ask her if she was sure, knowing she absolutely was. The task of unbarring the doors would have been easily accomplished with Ludo's strength, but both he and Sarah had come to an agreement on that count: her friends were to remain behind. It was only rational: why risk more than they had to? Besides, they'd move easier and faster if it were just the two of them and not five, or six, if you counted Ambrosius. Jareth had raised his hands, using his magic to remove the bar. Once the bar was gone and the doors were free, they'd instantly swung open, forcefully bringing to mind the image of a gaping maw just begging its prey to enter. Sarah was quick to oblige the Labyrinth, walking through the open doors without a backward glance, and Jareth had had no choice but to follow. Once they were inside, the doors had swung shut with a resounding thud, sending a shower of dust into the air. Sarah hadn't looked back.

Jareth had fallen into step beside her, alert to both their surroundings and her countenance. He wasn't going to let her suffer in silence as she'd done the day before. She had looked pale in the dim morning light, but aside from a look of determination and the signs of intense concentration, she looked well. She didn't seem distant or carried away. She didn't seem to be smothered in a fog of alien thoughts, and that was heartening. They'd walked the entire day, stopping to rest only once, speaking little. Jareth had been on his guard for anything the Labyrinth might hurl at them. Sarah had been quiet as well, perhaps because she was concentrating so hard, on _what_ precisely Jareth had no idea, or perhaps because she realized how much was at stake and how it all would rest on her shoulders if anything went wrong.

As they'd turned back to the city that day, Sarah had finally spoken. "Let's walk very casually towards the gates. No matter what happens, stay calm and don't run. If something comes over me like yesterday, don't go any further, but don't try and save me."

He'd nodded once to show his understanding, but not necessarily his agreement, and then did as she said. They moved in silence once more, the look of concentration intensifying on Sarah's face.

Jareth had felt the same thickening of the air, the same pregnant hush all around them save for the sound of their feet. He forced himself to match her stride, step for step. There had been distant rumblings of thunder, but not the same monstrous claps as before. However promising that was, Jareth had still been on-edge. Untapped adrenaline coursing through him, Jareth found Sarah's calm, sedate pace frustrating. But he did as she said. And, unbelievably, the Labyrinth had let them go. They had stepped into the goblin city, safe and unharmed, the gates reluctantly closing behind them.

Jareth had turned back to make sure the city gates were closed, and that was when Sarah did the unthinkable: she'd hugged him. Her arms around him, her soft body pressed tightly to him, the scent of her hair tempting his nose…Jareth had closed his eyes in momentary bliss. He'd returned the embrace, but let go quickly lest he be tempted to linger in that position all day. Sarah had released him, and Jareth finally caught a glimpse of her face. Gone was the look of concentration, of wary determination; all she showed now was relieved happiness.

"It worked! I can't believe it worked! Oh, Jareth, what a wonderful relief!"

"Yes. Quite. Wonderful relief," Jareth managed to get out, equal parts relief and disquiet making him tongue-tied. Sarah didn't notice his stumbling speech, caught up as she was in relaxing against the city wall. That had been a week ago. Each day the Labyrinth had made some sign of protest at her exit, but – and this might only have been wishful thinking on Jareth's part – but it had seemed to lessen every day. Whatever Sarah was doing seemed to be working. Progress, perhaps?

They'd done exactly the same things for the past seven days, falling into a comfortable routine easily enough. Although they walked side-by-side, Jareth led, using his knowledge of the Labyrinth to guide their steps. Today, Jareth had felt it safe enough to relax his guard and enjoy himself a bit. Sarah'd asked him specifically to find a place where they could rest for most of the day; she felt they deserved a break from the endless, aimless walking, and Jareth quite agreed. He directed her to the remains of a once-neatly trimmed box-garden. The plants, like the rest of the Labyrinth, appeared dead. In their current leafless state, they resembled nothing so much as shriveled grey skeletons. Cozy, wasn't it? They found a quiet corner in which to sit down, which was a piece of cake because all the corners were deathly quiet.

Sarah sat on the ground without preamble. She didn't know why she felt so comfortable with Jareth, why he made her feel so at ease. Aside from the past week, the only time they'd spent together was as adversaries, and even then, she'd only been in his company for a few minutes at a time. Those brief meetings were hardly the basis for the friendship Sarah now felt developing between her and Jareth. It just didn't make sense. What made even less sense was how different he seemed. Before, he'd seemed…well, there wasn't a word for how he seemed. Mysterious? Alluring? Taunting? Powerful? He had been all those things and more, and he still was – but in a drastically different manner. Before, he'd been the all-mighty Goblin King. He'd looked down at her with those same, glorious eyes and made her feel every inch the insignificant and petulant child that she had been then. Now, he was…Jareth. Just Jareth. She couldn't phrase it any other way than that.

Perhaps their easy rapport had something to do with her dreams. She had, after all, seen him every time she'd gone to sleep in the past eight years. He'd been waiting for her every time she'd entered her dreams, even here in the Underground. The past few nights she'd had that same dream, the one where he offered her everything she'd ever wanted. He'd held his arm outstretched, a gleaming crystal nestled in his open palm, waiting for her to choose. But when she'd opened her mouth to respond, those six words she'd been compelled to utter every time before hadn't come. She hadn't said anything at all, and that had been strangely uplifting. She'd awoken relieved, glad that she hadn't disappointed her dream-Jareth for the first time. In this dream, both she and Jareth had been full of hope.

But that was a dream; this was now, and right now, Sarah had several questions for Jareth. She leaned forward and said conspiratorially, "Well, now that we have some time to kill, I have a proposition for you."

Jareth sat about a meter away and reclined against the stone wall, looking interested but wary. "I'm listening," was all he said.

Taking that as an encouraging sign, Sarah continued. "Well, I've come to the conclusion that I know practically nothing about certain things – everything really – everything to do with the Underground. The Labyrinth, the goblin city, goblins, dwarves, fireys, …you. I'd like to know more. That's an understatement. I'd love to learn everything I can while I'm here, and you are the only person I can think of who could fulfill that wish. But to make it fair to you, you can ask me any question you like and I'll answer it. Question for question, quid pro quo. Deal?" She knew it wasn't much of a bargain; it was contingent on the hope that he might have questions to ask her, and what could he possibly want to know about her?

Jareth struck a thoughtful expression. "You drive a hard bargain." A dangerous bargain. He'd answer any question she had about this world, as long as they weren't about him. That would be … dangerous, for them both. Still, he'd get the chance to learn more about her, from her point of view, and that was a chance he'd jump at any day. "Very well, I accept. Since it was your idea, you should ask the first question."

Sarah thought for a minute, apparently sorting through a long list of questions, trying to find the one to ask first. Now that she'd gotten his permission, she couldn't think of an appropriate question. All that kept running through her head was '_Why don't you have an heir?_', and '_How did you come to fall in love with me?_, followed by the loaded '_Do you still love me?_' She was certainly _not_ going to ask those. Sarah snagged the first suitable question that came to mind, seizing upon it before it could escape and asked, "Was your castle really built by goblins?"

"Yes. My turn." He smiled at her indignant expression.

"Jareth! That's not funny! Elaborate, please."

"_That_ wasn't part of the agreement." Sarah gave him a meaningful look, and he conceded. "Oh, very well. Yes, the goblins built my castle, over a millennium ago. It was built for the first goblin king. It took almost one hundred years to built, or so I was told, and every goblin at that time had a hand in its construction. You'll find the goblins have rare talents for extraordinary things, and when the cause is great enough, they can forget themselves and be useful for a change. Now, is that enough elaboration, or shall I continue and list the chief architects and their current descendants?"

It was a challenge, and Sarah was ready for it. "Is that your question?" she countered.

"Touché. No, it isn't. All right, let me think." Jareth thought for a moment, and for several more moments. What would be a neutral question? Something that wouldn't reveal too much of him and what he knew about her? Jareth seized upon the first seemingly-innocuous question that passed through his mind and asked, "What is your favorite book?" He almost winced at how boring a question it was, and then almost winced again when he realized in which direction she could take her answer.

Sarah was pensive before answering. "I'm not sure if I have a favorite. I've always loved to read – anything of fiction. You can imagine how the titles have stacked up over the years. Hmmm. Well, I do remember my first favorite book, and that was Beauty and the Beast. I was a child, mind you, so don't laugh."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Jareth said, relieved she hadn't asked about that little red book in her room.

His relief was short-lived, lasting the approximately five seconds it took for Sarah to ask her next question: "How did the play about the Labyrinth come to be written?"

Another near miss, Jareth thought, knowing how lucky he was that she didn't ask how she'd come to possess the book in its recently-revised state. He answered her question as truthfully as possible. "Over the years, the Underground has been host to a number of Bovies – Abovegrounders, that is. One of them was a playwright, although I forget his name now. He wasn't the only one of his kind to visit the Underground either. Tell me – and this is my question – are you at all familiar with a dramatist, long-dead now, known as Bill Shakespeare?"

Jareth knew the answer, but couldn't have anticipated the way her eyes sparkled and her face lit up as she said, "Of course! He's possibly the most famous playwright in the history of the Aboveground. I've read almost all of his plays, and even acted in a few."

"Really? Well then, this ought to interest you. For your next question, ask me for the names of my parents."

Sarah eyed him questioningly, but did as he said. "What are your parents' names?"

"Oberon and Titania." Jareth watched as she made the connection, and that didn't take long at all.

"Oh my God! Your parents were the inspiration for A Midsummer Night's Dream? William Shakespeare actually met your parents? That's amazing!" Her excitement abated a bit, and then, "Wait. Did you actually meet William Shakespeare? _The_ William Shakespeare?"

"Regrettably, I did not. I was elsewhere at the time, and I later heard that it was an event of great amusement. But, I can assure you that the high court of the Underground has never contained, does not currently contain, and will not ever contain anyone by the names of Peaseblossom, Moth, Cobweb, Mustardseed, or Puck."

With a good-humored sparkle in her eyes, Sarah asked "What about Robin Goodfellow, or Bottom?"

Jareth laughed. "No, none by those names either."

Sarah joined in his amusement, but stopped laughing abruptly, an unbelievable thought taking shape in her mind. "Do you mean to tell me that you were alive at that time, over five hundred years ago? Jareth, how _old_ are you?"

That sobered him up quickly enough. "I'm considerably older than you, and that is all you need ever know. Now, I think you owe me, let's see, one, two, three, four, five, wait…six questions." He counted on his fingers for dramatic emphasis, and then met her pseudo-glare. "Where shall I start?"

"That's five now," she stated primly, realizing that although she'd started the game, she was up against a more-than-worthy opponent.

Jareth mocked her prim tone, asking, "Whatever do you mean?"

"One more down, four left."

"Ah, so she knows how to fight dirty I see." Jareth flashed her a debonair grin and said, "I wouldn't have it any other way." He was silent a moment, and then asked, "What did you do after you beat the Labyrinth?"

Hmm. Well, he had her there: she had eight years of experiences she could draw from to answer that question; where should she start? Like his first question, she wasn't sure she could provide him with an adequate answer. But she'd try. Best start from the beginning. "The first thing I did was check on Toby. I gave him my Sir Lancelot doll, the one he still plays with now when he thinks no one is looking."

Yes, Jareth knew that. "And after that?"

"I had a party with my friends – Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus, Ambrosius, the goblins. They made a terrible mess, but when I woke up in the morning, they were gone and so was the mess. Fortunately for me, too. I was lucky enough that my parents weren't woken up by the noise we made; I'm not sure how I could have explained a mess of that scale."

Jareth knew that too. Who did she think had cleared away the mess and made sure her friends got back to where they belonged safely? Feeling a bit repetitive, he asked again, "And after that?"

"And after that, I cleaned my room. Not from the party – from the clutter of my childhood. I needed to grow up – my time in the Labyrinth taught me that much. I packed up most of my toys, and put the ones Toby didn't want in the attic. Then I did my homework. Well, most of it anyway."

Once more Jareth asked, "And after that?"

"And after that, I stopped fighting with my stepmother. Now it's my turn."

"So it is. Ask away."

Sarah had her question ready. "In A Midsummer Night's Dream, Oberon and Titania were the king and queen of all faeries. Were your parents the king and queen of the entire Underground?"

"They were. They still are. They currently reside in the High Court of the Underground. They will rule for many years more, and then when they decide to step down, I suppose my younger brother will claim the throne. The last I heard, he was ruling a small kingdom not far from the High Court, no doubt honing his kingly skills. How did your family react to your new behavior?"

His abrupt transition from answer to question was not unnoticed by Sarah. On the contrary: she mimicked it. "They loved it. It was a long-overdue change. My stepmother was in tears the day I went off to college. You said you have a brother; what's his name?"

"Charles. My parents were an unimaginative lot when they named us boys. Where did you go to college?" Jareth was enjoying this rapid-fire exchange; it was such a welcome change to speak to someone as intelligent and lively as Sarah was.

Sarah was enjoying it too, searching for her next question while answering his. "A small, all-female University on the eastern coast. I studied foreign policy, international relations, languages, literature, and drama for four years before graduating. You said 'Us boys.' Do you any have other siblings?"

"Aside from my brother, I have a younger sister named Astera; she's married to the king of Elyssa. What made you choose those particular courses of study?"

"I don't know. When I was accepted to the university, I looked over their list of majors, and International Relations just sort of struck a chord with me. I've always liked learning about other countries, other cultures, other languages – so I decided to study more of the same, and then learn something about how to deal with those differences. There are other kingdoms besides the Labyrinth and the High Court of the Underground?"

"Yes. More than a hundred, all ruled by the fae. Which of Shakespeare's roles did you perform?"

"Beatrice, Olivia, and Bottom. I was part of an acting troupe on campus, and we spent a year performing nothing but Shakespeare. Playing Bottom was by far my favorite role. If you're the eldest son of your parents, why aren't you next in line for the throne of the Underground?"

"Because I don't want it." His words had finality about them; she must have hit a particularly sensitive nerve. They fell silent for a few moments. Jareth was sorry to have ended their conversation so abruptly, and tried to restore the ease of just a few minutes ago. "Sarah, about tomorrow. I won't be able to accompany you. You see, I've always made a point of visiting with my subjects once every fortnight, to hear their concerns, grievances, petitions, and to lend a hand when needed. With the current state of affairs, I've increased the frequency – now I meet with them every week, and-"

"And that means tomorrow," she finished for him.

"Yes. Now, I know you're quite capable of doing this on your own, but it would put my mind at ease if you waited until I was able to join you before re-entering the Labyrinth." He could not spend the entire day worrying if she was safe; he'd go mad. "Please," he added.

To his infinite relief, Sarah acquiesced. "All right. I can use the time to catch up with my friends; Hoggle's been sounding increasingly jealous of the time I've spent with you, although he'd never admit it. We'll resume the day after tomorrow."

"Thank you," Jareth said quietly. He gave the sky a calculating glance. "I think it's high time we began the journey back."

Sarah mirrored his action, looking at the veiled sun. "So it is." She accepted his hand, and let him pull her to her feet. Once she was standing, Sarah took her hand from Jareth's, busying herself brushing off her pants before she started walking back the way they came.

Jareth involuntarily clenched his fist, longing for the brief moment of contact they'd just shared. Shaking it off, he watched Sarah walk past him, preparing to leave this pitiful excuse of a garden. Adjusting his slight bag, Jareth looked back to see if there was anything they'd forgotten. After a brief scan, he turned to follow Sarah, but then just as quickly turned back. It couldn't be, he thought. But it was. In the corner where Sarah'd been sitting, barely discernable from the leaf litter on the ground, was something that hadn't been there before. A tiny, _living_ something. Peeking its white face above the brown leaves, so fragile that the slightest breeze might have whisked it away in the blink of an eye, was a flower.

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_Author's Addendum: Please review!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's note: Same disclaimer. Please review! _

Sarah watched as Jareth climbed up precarious pile of rubble with surprising agility, given his impractical footwear. They were in the western section of the Labyrinth, traveling over the mountains of lost and forgotten things Sarah had found herself in after the bubble-ball years ago. As he searched for a stable step, Sarah caught an uninterrupted glimpse of Jareth's backside. His tight, perfectly-formed backside. Sarah cocked her head to the side, entranced by the fact that his pants left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

_What are you doing?!?!_ The thought cut through her haze, and she averted her eyes immediately. Seconds later, Jareth reached the top of the mound and struck a triumphant pose. Sarah giggled, hoping that her blush wasn't very obvious. If Jareth noticed, he chose not to acknowledge it as he bent down and offered her a hand up. Sarah took it, eyeing the shifting junk dubiously.

Up she went, step by shaking step. As she found another teetering foothold, Sarah wondered balefully how he had managed to make it look so easy. When she was almost at the top, she put her foot onto a rusted something that decided it didn't like being stepped on, and promptly rolled out from under her foot. Sarah had tottered for a moment, watching the rubble under her feet shift and fall. Realizing she'd soon be lost under an avalanche of clutter, she leaped and grabbed a hold of Jareth, her hands seeking purchase anywhere they could find it. His hands closed around her arms, hauling her up to the relative safety of the top.

Sarah continued to hold onto him, one hand on his shoulder and the other tightly clutching his jacket. When she felt that it was safe to stand unassisted, she released him slowly, the hand that had been grasping his jacket just barely grazing his ribs. The moment her hand touched his side, Jareth started. Sarah stopped, a suspicion taking root in her mind. She repeated her action, eliciting a larger reaction from Jareth. She couldn't believe it: the goblin king was _ticklish_.

Sarah met Jareth's eyes, a rakish grin on her face, and a look of growing alarm on his. She raised her hands menacingly, preparing to attack. Jareth put forth his hands, palms facing her, as if he could stave her off while he slowly backed away. Sarah wasn't that easy to deter. She pounced on him, driving her hands into his sides and wriggling her fingers about. Jareth struggled to get away from her tickling fingers, biting his tongue in order to prevent any undignified laughter from escaping his mouth. Both efforts were in vain. His knees buckled momentarily as he released the uncontrollable laughter burgeoning within him.

Sarah was unrelenting, relishing in her power over him. He was so _human_, in the way he was laughing, in the way he was helpless under her hands…and in the way he felt. Beneath that leather jacket was a body as warm as it was exquisitely firm. Jareth sank to his knees before Sarah could take her thoughts further, taking her down with him as he panted between bursts of laughter. He hadn't yet begged for her to stop, but Sarah suspected he couldn't draw enough breath as it was now to even try. She let up for a moment, giving him a chance to catch his breath.

It was a mistake.

Jareth took advantage of her brief moment of mercy, seizing her wrists in an iron grip, forcing her hands behind her back. He held her like that, his hands on her wrists, his arms around her in a playful but solid embrace. Sarah stopped struggling when she realized how close his face was to hers.

She could feel his breath warming her skin, its soft caress bringing her an intoxicatingly masculine scent that was entirely his own. God, he smelled great! So close to his face, Sarah could see the exact shades of his eyes – their azure depths just a few tints apart. Her eyes came to rest on his lips, watching as the soft, pink flesh formed itself into a nervous smile. And then something clicked in Sarah's mind. Their proximity was the catalyst she'd needed to realize that she was attracted to him. More than attracted…far more than just attracted to him. She was bewitched by him, and from the way he was looking at her now, she could see she wasn't the only one who'd fallen.

Jareth released her hands, and ran his own down her arms, caressing her skin lightly. One traced its way across her face, skimming her brow, her cheeks, and her lips. Sarah felt an electric thrill pass through her as she realized he'd removed his gloves.

His hands, soft, slender, and pale, gently stroked her flesh, the feel of his bare skin on hers making Sarah close her eyes in temporary ecstasy. The hand that had toyed with her face cupped itself softly around the back of her head, and suddenly Sarah knew what was going to happen. She raised her own hands to rest around his neck, giving him all the encouragement he needed. Jareth closed the distance between them, touching his lips to hers in a soft, restrained kiss.

Too restrained for Sarah; she wanted more. From the way his body trembled in her arms, she guessed he was keeping a tight reign on his desire, as if he were unsure of what she wanted. Sarah hastened to show him that there was only one person she wanted. Parting her lips slightly, she gave him an unspoken invitation, and he accepted. Jareth deepened the kiss, invading her mouth, claiming all that lay beyond. As her blood began to boil under his passionate attentions, Sarah realized how much he had held back to begin with, and encouraged him all the more. Her hands tangled in Jareth's hair as she clung to him, claiming him as effectively as he was claiming her, his lips a brand on her flesh. _Yes_, she sighed in her mind. _This_ is what she'd wanted; this passion, this rapture, the excitement of his touch. Her body had longed for it; why hadn't she obliged it earlier?

She made an appreciative sound in the back of her throat as his lips moved to her neck, leaving a trail of heated flesh in their wake. One of his hands skimmed down her back, lightly passing over her side. As his hand passed closed to her ribs, she felt a moment's panic, thinking he might return the favor of her earlier ministrations to him, before that hand dipped daringly lower. Sarah trembled in anticipation, his every touch driving her body into a fiery frenzy.

His sharp teeth nipping at her neck, Jareth teased her ear with melodious words, a vaguely familiar song, sung so low she had to strain to hear him…

"Still in bed!" Sarah opened her eyes at the sound of Mrs. Chartha's voice, and winced at the sunlight streaming in from outside. Was it just her, or were the days getting progressively brighter? No matter. Sarah sighed and threw off the covers, reluctantly letting go of her dream. The problem was that it wouldn't let go of her.

As Mrs. Chartha grumbled about the room, setting a breakfast tray on the table and then pulling the coverlet on the bed back into place, Sarah remembered her dream. It wasn't hard – she could recall every detail in vivid color. The bottom line was that she had kissed Jareth, or he had kissed her. Well, they'd each kissed the other, so that part didn't matter. What did matter was how much she had enjoyed it. _How much I _dreamed_ I enjoyed it_, Sarah amended. He hadn't actually kissed her, so she hadn't actually experienced it to judge whether or not she liked it, but she suspected that if he were to do so, she would enjoy it immensely.

And therein lied the problem. Sarah found Jareth attractive, _very_ attractive. She didn't have to be a PhD dream analyzer to figure that one out. And the dream she'd just had was not the most…_graphic_ one she'd ever had of him, not by any means. Those dreams had been fine before, when she knew she'd never see him again. When she_thought_ she'd never see him again. This was different. Then, when she'd had dreams of that nature, it didn't matter what she had imagined – she'd never have to think about it when she spoke with him, because she'd never speak with him again. Now, that possibility was entirely too likely. Perhaps it was a good thing she wouldn't be spending today with him; she didn't know if she could look at him without blushing. Without remembering the feel of his lips on her skin. _The _imagined_ feel of his lips on my skin_, she amended again.

_Just forget about it_, she ordered herself. _Pretend it never happened. It's not like you haven't dreamed of him before; you've dealt with that. The only difference now is that _he's_ here. Well,_you're_ here and you have to see _him_. So just forget about it._ Sarah wished it was that easy. Deciding activity would help, she walked into her lavatory and performed her morning toilette. By the time she emerged, Mrs. Chartha was no where to be seen, which was fine by her. She didn't have a problem with the matronly housekeeper, but she couldn't help but feel that Mrs. Chartha had a problem with her. _Probably because of the Labyrinth. _Sarah couldn't blame her for that, so she did her best to stay out of Mrs. Chartha's way.

Setting her towel down on the table, Sarah sat down and unveiled her breakfast: porridge, toast, and a red-colored jam. Probably strawberry. At least that made the meal palatable, but it hardly mattered. Since Sarah'd been in the Underground, she'd developed a very healthy appetite. She'd indulged it, caring little for extra calories because of how much walking she'd been doing. Come to think of it, it was probably all the walking she'd been doing lately that sparked this appetite in the first place. Probably.

Later, Sarah walked through the castle, taking the time to really look around as she went to meet her friends. So it was over a thousand years old? And still standing? That was incredible. Jareth had confirmed what Hoggle had said: the goblins _had_ built this castle. She let out a sound of exasperation. _There I go again, thinking about him._ Shaking her head, she rounded a corner, and came face-to-face with Hoggle.

"Hoggle! I was just looking for you! How are you?"

"I'm here, ain't I? You sure you were lookin' for me and not Jareth?" He asked skeptically.

"Of course I was looking for you. You're not jealous of the time I spend with him, are you Hoggle?"

He looked affronted. "Me? Jealous? Right." He scratched the back of his head absently. "It's just you said we were friends, and I-"

"Oh, Hoggle, we _are_ friends," she interrupted. "But Jareth's my friend too. He and I have a problem to solve, and that's going to take time. Time away from you, and from Ludo, and Sir Didymus, but that doesn't mean I love you any less."

That seemed to hit the nail on the head. Hoggle's demeanor brightened immediately, and he changed the subject, asking what they were going to do today.

Sarah wasn't sure. Today was the one day she hadn't planned out, and it was a bit refreshing. She had planned exactly what to do in the Labyrinth ever since Jareth had agreed to go along with her plan. It had been quite simple, actually. Exceedingly simple. So simple that she'd been glad Jareth hadn't asked her what she was doing. If she'd explained it, she would have sounded terribly naïve and silly. How could she say that she'd concentrated all those days on sending positive thoughts to the Labyrinth? That she'd told the Labyrinth (making the assumption that it could listen) that she wasn't going to go far, that she'd be back, not to worry, she'd return. Aside from repeating those thoughts a thousand times each day, well… there was no aside from that – that was all she had done. It sounded so stupid when she thought about it, but it had seemed to make a difference. For one thing, the Labyrinth hadn't thrown such a fit (for that's what she'd decided that bit with the thunder and lightening had been). Sure, it had grumbled when she'd left, but it had let her leave, under her own free will. Also, when she'd set foot into the Labyrinth, she'd been able to fight the depression, panic, and anger that had bombarded her before. She projected positive thoughts, spoken to the Labyrinth as if it were a person in need of comfort; a child in need of love, and that had kept those feelings at bay. And then there was that flower Jareth had found yesterday, exactly where she'd been sitting.

Jareth hadn't known what to make of the flower, and he'd said as much. Sarah, eyeing the dead gardens around them, had taken it as a positive sign, a sign of hope. That one tiny, fragile, living thing could survive here seemed to say that soon the tides would turn; life would return to this garden, to the Labyrinth, and to the entire kingdom. She could only hope so. Sarah'd also seen that flower as a small peace-offering; a present, from the Labyrinth to her. After all, it was beautiful, and the current conditions certainly made it unique and all the more pretty – it was the perfect gift for a girl. She hadn't mentioned that to Jareth either. Although he'd probably never say it outright if he thought she was stupid, that certainly wouldn't stop him from thinking it, and that would be more than Sarah could bear.

_Argh! Why can't I stop thinking about him? He's not even here and every other thought I have is about Jareth. Give it a rest!_ Her self-chastisement finished, Sarah and Hoggle arrived at a small wooden door that barely came up to her waist. Hoggle didn't stop to investigate; he simply pushed the door forward, revealing the morning outside in the goblin city. _A side exit!_ Sarah'd been looking for one, just in case she ever had to avoid the hustle and bustle near the entrance hall. Immediately outside the door were Ludo and Sir Didymus.

"Ah! My lady, you grace us with your presence." Sir Didymus swept off his hat as he took an elaborate, courtly bow.

"Arise, Sir Knight," Sarah said, jokingly, before turning and embracing one of Ludo's giant arms.

"Sar-wah, friend!" Ludo's excitement was palpable.

"You, uh, you got one of those for me?" Hoggle's query was almost timid, and Sarah wondered what had happened to make him so unsure of himself. She hurried to greet him in the same manner, wrapping her arms around him and planting a big, theatrical kiss on his cheek.

"I'm sorry, Hoggle. I must have forgotten to do that earlier. Can you ever forgive me?" She smiled to let him know she was only teasing.

He faked a gruff scowl, "Well, just don't let it happen again."

Sarah smiled, relishing the feeling of being surrounded by friends. The only thing that could have made it better was if Jareth were there. She wondered what he was doing this very moment.

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Jareth was trying to concentrate. He was listening to one of his subjects, trying his hardest to pay attention, but thoughts of Sarah kept distracting him._Where is she? Who is she with? What is she doing?_ It was enough to drive him mad. As it was, he pushed those thoughts out of his head for the umpteenth time and listened.

"I don't know what you said to him, your majesty, but it's done the trick. He's been off the bottle and working up a storm in the forge. It were enough to amaze both me and Duggle."

That was welcome news indeed. "I'm delighted to hear it, Mariah. Now, what were you saying about your friend?"

"Clara. She's not been the same since, well…" Mariah stopped, perhaps because the problem was too similar to her own grief.

Jareth understood her hesitancy: Clara's loss was very much like Mariah's. "She's not been the same since her brother disappeared," Jareth supplied. Oh, yes. He should have seen this coming. Clara had been widowed a few years before Sarah'd won, and had gone to stay with her brother, Thineus Disby. Thineus had taken good care of her, giving special attention to the needs of her delicate condition, and when the time had come, had given both her and her newborn son a home. Then Thineus had been taken by the darkness, the first disappearance, but not the last. Poor Clara. Jareth's heard went out to the dwarf-woman, and her young son Gerry.

Mariah nodded, grateful he'd caught on. "She's awful lonely, and young Gerry is too. I've tried to get her through her grief, but I've not been able to work much change. She needs a friend, someone to talk to. And her boy needs a father. Problem is everyone's already got enough on their plates; they don't have time for her, and she won't go looking for herself. I don't know what to do." Mariah was worrying her apron again, and Jareth reached out a gloved hand to stop her.

"Don't worry; we'll think of something." Jareth wondered if Mariah knew what he did – that Clara already had a new friend, someone Jareth thought had definite potential as a friend. As a future husband and father, Jareth wasn't sure. But he kept all of that to himself, saying instead: "Why don't you let Clara look after herself for a while, let her take charge of her life, and her son's. When she's ready, she'll realize just what she needs, and how to go about getting it."

Mariah nodded, letting the certainty in his tone reassure her. "Thank you, your majesty." She dropped her apron and clasped her hands matter-of-factly. "Well, I've dinner to be getting on with."

"Of course." Jareth stood and turned to leave. "Give my regards to your husband and brother-in-law, Mariah. Good day." He walked away, relieved that at least in this case, he wasn't alone. Perhaps he'd have a chat with Clara's would-be suitor. Or maybe not; that might scare him off. Best just to let things work out on their own. For now.

Maybe he'd tell Sarah; he could imagine the smile it would bring to her face, the lights that would sparkle in her eyes as she realized…

_No! Stop thinking about her. You have work to do. Work first, play later, understand, Jerry-boy? You are the Goblin King for goodness sake. Act like it! _The thoughts jarred him from his reverie, and he consulted a scroll of parchment. After spending most of the day in the goblin city, Jareth had finished with the Goblins and was now in his great hall with the dwarves. Consulting the parchment again, he saw that he was due at the cobbler's, and hastened across the busy foyer.

As he passed through the make-shift market, Jareth caught sight of a jeweler's cart. Necklaces and beads and pendants hung down from every side, glittering alluringly in the faery-light. One necklace in particular caught his attention. The chain was made of fine silver links, and the charm was simple enough: a soaring, silver raven, with tiny green stones for eyes. It reminded Jareth of Sarah, what with her flowing raven hair and her verdant eyes. Maybe she would like it? He couldn't remember her ever showing any sign of interest in ravens, or any bird for that matter. Still, Jareth pulled out a pouch of money and, after peeking inside it to count the amount, presented the whole lot in payment for the necklace, which he pocketed.

Not sure if he'd ever have the courage to give it to her, Jareth focused on something else. Anything else. The first thing that came to mind was the Labyrinth, which, surprise-surprise, was a topic irreversibly connected to Sarah. He couldn't deny that the Labyrinth was changing, and for the better. There were obvious changes, like letting Sarah leave with little fuss. But there were subtle changes as well. He'd noticed this morning how bright the day was. Too bright to be a meaningless fluctuation. No, Sarah was doing something and it was working; he just had to figure out what. Jareth hadn't asked her yet, perhaps because he was afraid that it was something impossibly simple and that Sarah would think him an idiot for not thinking of it himself. It irked him a bit that she'd been able to think of a solution in the one week she'd been here when he hadn't been able to in the months beforehand. What did she know that he didn't?

He'd find out soon enough. Right now, he had to speak with the cobbler. From what he'd been told, the tanner had been sending up substandard leather and the cobbler couldn't make a decent shoe out of it. Jareth needed to be the impartial judge and see if the leather was as bad a quality at the shoemaker had said. If it was, and Jareth thought it probably would be, he'd be forced to visit the tannery to see just what the problem was. The bog of eternal stench may posses the worst stink imaginable, but the tanner's ran a close second. He'd reek for the rest of the day! Well, then perhaps it was best that he wouldn't be seeing _her_ today.

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Children really were quite sweet, Sarah mused to herself. She'd roamed the streets of the goblin city with her friends for a while, sometimes listening to their comical bickering, and sometimes taking part herself. A few hours ago, they'd come upon those same goblin-children, and a few dwarf-children as well. They'd been excited to see her, remembering the fun she'd brought them last week. And now she'd brought new friends!

Ludo had been a dear, sitting down squarely and letting the children climb all over him like a jungle-gym. A few had pulled his hair, probably to see what he'd do, but Sarah had quickly set them straight. They'd then amused themselves dangling from his outstretched arms, swinging about before launching themselves exuberantly into the air. Sarah had caught each one, laughing at the joy such easy actions could bring them.

When her arms had gotten tired, Sarah'd gone and joined Sir Didymus. He was perched on a low wall, regaling all the children seated on the ground below with epic tales of brave deeds and courageous battles (his own). As soon as Sarah sat on the ground, three young goblins had immediately climbed quietly into her lap, their warm weight soothing her. Looking around, she saw Hoggle seated apart from them, but not very far away, smoking a pipe. No goblin-children were brave enough to climb into _his_ lap, she noted, but there was one dwarf-boy seated quietly beside him, looking a bit drowsy. Maybe Hoggle had made a friend?

Sarah turned back to listen to Sir Didymus's tale, eager to hear the words that had put such a captivating hold on these young listeners.

"Our losses had been great, our victories small, but still I kept heart. Spirits were low, soldiers huddled 'round sputtering fires, ready to lower their shields and yield to the enemy, but still _I_ kept heart. I mounted my noble steed Aurelius and rode through the camp, quenching the fires of discontent and surrender with the draught of steely courage and fortitude. By the pale morning light, the glow of hope shoneth from their eyes, bravery and mettle burning in their hearts. My comrades ready, we rode on to battle, joining the forces united under our liege."

Sarah wondered what battle it was he spoke of. Surely they had had wars in the Underground, but if Sir Didymus had fought in one, it must have been quite recent. He didn't look very old, so it couldn't have been long ago, although she suspected it was before he'd had Ambrosius.

"As we approached the field of battle, the enemy's forces were waiting, the light of the sun shining off their cowardly armor. A few of our men quailed at the sight of the enemy's weapons, but before they could tuck tail and run, King Jareth called forth their courage, following my prior example by delivering a rousing speech. He reminded us why we were fighting. 'They cast us out,' quoth he, 'Man, woman, and child. They wish to exterminate us. They think they have only to lift their heels to stamp us out! Let us show them their error. Let us show them our power, our determination, our worthiness. Show them that we are a force to be reckoned with. Make them rue the day they ever had the nerve to banish us from our own lands! Citizens of the Underground, attack!' Heartened, we augmented his harrowing battle cry with the howl of our own ferocities and sprang forth…"

_When was Jareth in battle? Where? How? Why?_ Sarah was confused. Jareth had said he was the son of the high king and queen of the Underground – but according to Sir Didymus he had been banished? Was that why Jareth was touchy about not inheriting the high throne? But Jareth had said 'us;' that meant more than him – but who? And who had banished them? Jareth's parents? Were they 'the enemy?' Sarah would have a lot to ask Jareth about tomorrow.

And tomorrow would be all too soon. The sun had just passed beyond the horizon, just barely illuminating the sky. Soon it would be dark, and cold, and as Sarah's stomach gave a loud rumble, she realized she was hungry. The cat-like goblin-child that had been leaning into Sarah's belly started, toppling the other two children out of her lap. Sir Didymus stopped in mid sentence at the disturbance.

"Perhaps we should call it a night, Sir Didymus," suggested Sarah. She stood up, "Why don't you guys run along home and I'll see if I can't convince Sir Didymus to come back tomorrow and tell you some more tales." Given the way that he was nodding right now, Sarah doubted she'd have a hard time convincing him of anything.

The children grumbled a bit, but surprisingly did as Sarah had asked. They scattered to the streets, going in all directions at once, disappearing into the tiny houses. Soon, it was just Sarah and her friends, and one dwarf child that had fallen asleep at Hoggle's feet. Hoggle tapped out his pipe and tucked it away, standing up.

"I think this one's had it. I'll take him inside." Hoggle surprised Sarah greatly by bending down and scooping up the sleeping boy with the utmost gentleness. When Hoggle was gone, Sarah turned to Sir Didymus.

"Would you be so kind as to escort me back to the castle, bold Sir Knight?"

Sir Didymus leaped down from his seat, springing into action at once. "For thee, anything, gentle maiden." He rushed forward, leading the way. "Come, come, brother Ludo. Lady Sarah needs our protection!" Sarah smiled to see his stalwart chivalry.

Soon they were off, Sir Didymus beside Sarah and Ludo bringing up the rear. "Sir Didymus, I couldn't help but hear how you said Jareth had led you into battle. Is that true?"

"Why yes, my lady, it was of King Jareth that I spoke. His Majesty and I share noble souls-"

"When was this battle? What brought it about? Where was it fought?"

"I say, over a thousand years ago, methinks. Hast His Majesty not told thou? Wouldst thou like to hear the tale?"

"I would, Sir Didymus, but later. Perhaps you could give me the main details – who, when, where, why?"

"Certainly! Let me see – who? That was King Jareth, myself, the dwarves, the goblins, the gnomes, the trolls, and the ogres. When? Some thousand years ago. Where? In the deserts of oblivion, and then the Labyrinth. Have I forgotten anything?"

"Why," prompted a bewildered Sarah.

"Ah, yes – Why? Because the Fae rounded up all the creatures they had the gall to label unseemly and unpleasant and pronounced a sentence of eternal banishment upon them. King Jareth was the only Fae to object, but that made little difference. He then renounced his claim to the throne and joined the outcasts, and with the help of my fellow knights and myself, led them in a war for right, for justice, for virtue, for…"

Sir Didymus supplied an infinite amount of causes for their war, but Sarah had stopped listening. It was too much to take in. Sir Didymus and Jareth had fought in a battle over one thousand years ago? That meant that Sir Didymus was over _one thousand years_ old. _Jareth_ was over _one thousand years_ old. No wonder he hadn't wanted to tell her his age yesterday – he'd probably been afraid that she wouldn't believe him. But that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Sarah had always known that Jareth was a king, but she had never before thought of him as_kingly_. Sure, he had goblins and dwarves and strange-looking creatures at his command. Sure, he had a throne room, and he had a castle, and he had a kingdom. But the fact that he actually, truly cared about his subjects and his country had never been so clear to her. He'd gone to battle when he hadn't needed to, given up all claim to the high throne of the _entire Underground_ and subjected himself to the same banishment as the others. It certainly wasn't a move for his own best interest, so why had he done it? _I don't know him at all_, Sarah thought.

They arrived at the castle, and entered in through the main entrance, into the bustling foyer. Sarah remembered how last week, Jareth had spoken to that dwarf – Daggle – and gotten him back on his feet. She remembered that today was his day to visit with his subjects to…what had he said? _To hear their concerns, grievances, petitions, and to lend a hand when needed. _ He wasn't afraid of hard labor, of getting his hands dirty, or of visiting with his subjects. Sarah had seen that, but she'd never actually stopped to _see_ it. He was the Goblin King, but she'd never realized what that meant. It was as if he was a completely different person from the sneering king who had challenged her to solve his Labyrinth if she could. No, he_was_ a different person, or rather, he was never that person. It must have been an act. Why hadn't she realized it before?

_Because then I only saw what I wanted to see. And I didn't want to see how good a man he was. The best, actually. A real knight-in-shining-armor. Damn it. _She'd given it all up, his love, this kingdom, and the chance to spend the rest of her life with him. It was amazing the sort of perspective one week could bring.

Sarah realized that she'd walked right through the active hall, and had ended up in a sort of residential area. There were white canvas tents all around, each one personalized with the possessions of its owners. There was a motion to her right and she felt the inexplicable urge to hide. Crouching down, she looked for the source of the movement. Someone was coming out of one of the tents. It was Hoggle, Sarah saw, and she sank even lower when she realized he wasn't alone. From where she hid, she could just hear their conversation.

"Thank you for bringing him home, Hoggle. I hope he wasn't too much trouble."

"Yer welcome, and don't you go worrying yerself about me, Clara."

The dwarf-woman smiled. "You're so good to us Hoggle. Thank you. I need to get back to the seamstress's before I'm missed. Thank you again." She leaned forward and gave him a swift kiss on the cheek before walking away rapidly.

Hoggle raised a hand slowly to his face, touching the spot where her lips had blessed his skin in wonder. He turned to watch Clara go, and Sarah could see the look on his face. _Hoggle's in love with her! Hoggle was in love! _Sarah couldn't imagine his horror if he found out she knew, that she had spied on him and knew something so very personal about him. Without looking, she slowly backed away, into something quite solid.

"Good evening, Sarah. How's the view from down there?"

Sarah nearly choked on her heart. Quickly, she turned around, grabbed Jareth, and pulled him down out of sight. She mimed being quiet until Hoggle had walked away. When he had, she finally looked at Jareth. He arched an eyebrow at her, curiosity written all over his face.

"I don't suppose you'd tell me just who we were hiding from?"

Sarah blushed, intriguing Jareth all the more. "It was Hoggle. Jareth, I think he's-"

"He's got a…new friend, shall we say?"

Sarah nodded, looking guilty. "I didn't mean to spy on him, but then there he was, and then there she was, and I was so shocked – I panicked. But why don't you look surprised?"

"Well, to be honest, I'm not. This has been developing for sometime now. I've been meaning to have a little chat with Hoggle on the matter, but I decided to hold off a bit this morning lest I frighten him off."

"Oh." Sarah stood. "I'm sorry I pulled you down like that. You probably-" Sarah's stomach gave a very audible rumble just then, cutting her off in mid-sentence. "Sorry," was all she could think to add.

Jareth noted that she was still blushing, although Hoggle had long gone. _Is this blush for_ me Feeling bold, Jareth took some initiative. "Sarah, I don't suppose…that is…would you do me the honor of dining with me tonight?"

Sarah paused before answering. _Here it is, the opportunity to know the _real_Jareth, and maybe, just maybe, to get a second chance. Take it!_ "I'd be honored."

Jareth covered his sigh of relief by dramatically offering her his arm. Sarah giggled as she accepted it, making Jareth's heart beat faster. _Oh, you precious thing,_ he thought. _How you turn my world._

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_Author's Addendum: Like it? Hate it? Love it? Forgot it? Send me a review and let me know!! _


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's note: Standard disclaimer still applies. This chapter's a bit shorter than the last one, sorry. Please review!_

Sarah held onto Jareth's arm the entire way to her room, sending shivers down Jareth's spine each time her grip changed. Did she know how much she affected him? Jareth was surprised that she _had_ taken his arm: he'd spent over an hour at the tannery today, and he knew he didn't smell like a peach. Still, if she noticed, she chose to ignore it in favor of walking beside him, and that would put a spring in Jareth's step any day.

They made small talk until they arrived outside her doors. He took his temporary leave of her, saying, "If you would give me half an hour to clean myself up, I'll return for you and escort you to dinner. I paid a visit to the tannery today and those visits tend to …linger, as I'm sure you've noticed," he said wryly.

Sarah nodded, a smile forming on her face. "Half an hour, then?"

He nodded, and watched as she slipped into her room. When the door shut, Jareth vanished, reappearing in the kitchens. He alerted the cook, a frazzled-looking goblin wearing a spotted white apron that both he and Lady Sarah would be dining in his quarters tonight, and to please have a tray for each of them brought up within half an hour. He waited only for some sign that his request had been received before vanishing once more, this time appearing in his chambers.

In record time, Jareth divested himself of his smelly clothing and sprinted into his bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, he emerged, confident he'd scrubbed the smell of rancid hides off his flesh. Running a hand through his hair, he felt it dry immediately at his magic's urging. Now, he was faced with the difficult question of what to wear. He pulled open his wardrobe doors, a furrow forming between his brows. _What would Sarah like? What's her favorite color?_ Jareth knew very well that she didn't have one. That's why he'd changed his clothes so many times when she ran the Labyrinth before: he hadn't known what color would please her the most. Sarah loved color, period. Or she had, when she was a child. This new, adult Sarah was deliciously unknown to him. A quick glance at his wall clock revealed he had less than ten minutes left. Jareth quickly selected a cream-colored shirt, a midnight-blue waistcoat, and black pants. No high vicar's collar tonight; tonight, he wanted to be just Jareth, and not the Goblin King. He also decided against a cravat, leaving his neck and the surrounding flesh revealed. Maybe Sarah would be as accommodating?

Sarah! Another glance at the clock revealed he had less than five minutes before he was due at her door. Jareth adjusted his waistcoat before giving the room a quick once-over. _Thank goodness for Mrs. Chartha_, he thought. Without her, the room would be a mess. As it was, he had only to pick up his malodorous clothing and stow it somewhere out of sight before the room was ready. One more glance at the wall clock: _one minute left!_

Jareth looked himself over in the mirror. He looked a little excited, a little nervous, a little tired, but other than that, he looked …as good as he ever would. Jareth vanished, reappearing outside Sarah's door. He cleared his throat and knocked.

"Come in!" came the muffled reply. Jareth turned the door handle slowly, Sarah's room coming into sight. He'd spared no expense when he'd decorated it. They were, after all, the queen's quarters. He'd chosen cream and varying shades of green as the primary colors, accenting them with rich tapestries depicting battles long past. It looked as if she kept things tidy enough, or perhaps she had Mrs. Chartha to thank for that also. Or perhaps she had done the same, quick tidying that he'd done in his chambers, which meant that she'd planned for him to come inside.

In the corner, on the polished, wooden desk, Jareth noticed a stack of stationary and an ink well. Had she been writing? If so, what had she been writing? Before he could investigate further, she emerged from the bathroom. Jareth felt his breath catch in his throat: she looked radiant. Dressed in black slacks and a wine-colored blouse that modestly revealed some of her delightful décolletage, with her hair flowing softly down her back, she looked stunning. Beyond beautiful. She had looked ill when he'd looked in on her before she came here, and she'd still had traces of that emaciated look when she arrived. But now, only a week later, she looked – lively, healthy, and happy. And she was waiting for him to say something.

Jareth closed his mouth, and offered her his arm again to make up for his speechlessness. She accepted with a grin, and he magicked them away to his chambers.

Once the world righted itself, Sarah reluctantly let go of Jareth's arm. She looked around his room. _So _this_ is where he sleeps. I mean, so_this_ is his room._ She hadn't meant to think about him sleeping. Sarah noticed that a table had been set for them, between the cheery fireplace and the large windows. The room was lit by a few, tapered candles on the table, the fire in the fireplace, and a few orbs of Jareth's own, unique form of lighting. There were no faeries in this room.

Jareth pulled out a chair for her, waiting until she'd seated herself before taking a seat himself. _My goodness, he looks good! I can just see the top of his chest…._ Sarah realized she was staring, and averted her eyes, unfolding her napkin and setting it across her lap. Jareth mirrored her action, and then met her eyes.

"I must say, Sarah, you do look beautiful tonight."

Sarah was grateful for the firelight; he wouldn't be able to see her blush. "Thank you, Jareth. So, what's on the menu? It smells delightful!"

Jareth removed the polished silver dome, revealing a roast chicken, steamed vegetables, and a fresh loaf of bread. It looked delicious. While Jareth carved the fowl, Sarah poured the wine, setting his glass by his plate. Jareth served both of them, and Sarah accepted her plate gratefully. She wondered if it was customary to say grace in the Underground, but it seemed not. Jareth tucked into his food with relish, and Sarah hastened to follow his example.

"Mmm," Sarah hummed. "This is good. I've never been any good at cooking myself, and this would be completely beyond my culinary powers."

"Yes, I quite agree." Sarah raised an offended eyebrow, and Jareth corrected himself. "I mean I too am helpless in the kitchen. I scarcely believe I could manage to boil water, but then again, one of the benefits of being a king is that I get to employ a chef."

"Hear, hear." Sarah said. "Now, I'm not so hopeless that I can't boil water – I practically survived on that ability in college when all I could afford to eat was ramen noodles."

"Ramen noodles? I'm not sure I'm familiar with those; do elaborate."

Sarah blushed, "It's sort of a just-add-hot-water dish. The noodles are all dried out – you do have noodles in the Underground?" If they didn't have noodles Underground, and she wasn't going to take it for granted that they did, then she wasn't so sure she could explain the dish.

Jareth was tempted to say no, just to see her get flustered explaining what a noodle was, but he decided to spare her, and nodded.

Relieved, Sarah continued, "Well, you add the hot water to the noodles, and wait for them to get soft, and then you take this little flavoring packet and pour it into the noodles. It's a powder that makes the noodles taste like some sort of meat broth, like beef, chicken, or pork. Shrimp too, and a lot of other flavors that I've never really cared for. Anyway, you add the flavoring, and heat it up some more, and then voilà! It's Ramen noodle soup." Sarah suppressed a groan: had she _really _just spent all that time talking about _noodle soup?_ What was wrong with her?

Jareth watched as Sarah tilted her head down ever so slightly, presumably to hide another blush. She needn't be embarrassed; he delighted in learning about the Aboveground, especially if it was anything to do with her, and she'd never looked lovelier than when she was animatedly explaining that dish to him, the candlelight glinting off her eyes and the fire suffusing her face with rosy hues. Still, she was uncomfortable; he'd better change the subject.

"So, I'll give your regards to the chef?"

Sarah's head popped back up as she nodded. "Please, do. Mrs. Chartha always disappears before I have a chance to ask her to do that for me, before I even have a chance to thank her for what _she_ does for me."

Jareth thought he heard an underlying, discordant note in Sarah's words, prompting him to ask, "How do like Mrs. Chartha?"

Sarah considered her words carefully; she couldn't be blunt and say she didn't at all, because one: it wasn't true, and two: this was a King she was speaking to. One didn't say such things to a king. "I like her well enough. It's just that, well…" She searched for the right words, and this time Jareth didn't come to her rescue. She'd just have to spell it out. "I get the feeling she doesn't like me. Not that it matters; we're hardly meant to be bosom companions, and it doesn't bother me at all."

_Clearly_, Jareth thought. Maybe he'd have a chat with Mrs. Chartha. "I quite understand your concerns, Sarah. Mrs. Chartha has been a bit…distant, lately. I suspect it all has to do with the dwarves downstairs. She has always prided herself on keeping an orderly and immaculate household. Indeed, that's what led me to hire her as my housekeeper. You can imagine how the extra mess and disorder gets to her. It has nothing to do with you." He reached a hand across the table and gave her hand a comforting squeeze, bringing a smile to her face.

Sarah neglected to remind Jareth that if it hadn't been for her, the dwarves would not be downstairs, cluttering up Mrs. Chartha's neat household. She pushed the thought away, wanting to enjoy the evening. "You said you had been at the tanner's – what were you doing there?"

Jareth released her hand and clasped his together. "Well, that tale actually begins at the shoemakers. I'd received several complaints that the tanners were sending up poor-quality leather, which, of course, the shoemakers couldn't do anything with. They hadn't sold a shoe in almost a fortnight, and called me in to do something about it. So, I went, and indeed, the leather was poor quality. Well, it might have been moderate quality, save that it wasn't quite finished. I went down to the tanners to see what the problem was. I'm not sure if you're familiar at all with the process of leather-making, but let me assure you, it is a grisly, noxious business." Jareth shook his head, as if to clear it of some disgusting image, and Sarah giggled.

He continued. "Well, it turns out that the tanners were short on a certain – ingredient – needed to finish the process. I have since taken steps to prevent such a shortage, and I hope it resolves the problem all together." He took a sip of his wine, and then said, "So, tell me Sarah, what did you do today?"

So Sarah told him. She told him about walking around the city, about catching up with her friends, and about the children. "Sir Didymus is quite a spirited story-teller. He had all of the children enthralled, and I think he really enjoyed himself. I caught quite a few mutinous looks when I called it a night and asked the children to go home, but I think it's safe to say that he'll be back. Hoggle carried in one of the dwarf-children who'd fallen asleep by him. I didn't know Hoggle had such tenderness in him, the way he held that little boy. And then I found him with the boy's mother – Clara – was it? And the rest you know. Actually, you probably know more than I do, since you knew about Clara."

"Yes, I did. It's been going on for a while now, ever since she moved into the hall with her son, Gerry."

"What would you have said to Hoggle if you had had that 'little chat' with him?"

Jareth laughed for a moment, and then said, seriously, "I would have said that Clara and her son had experienced a great deal of grief recently. She was widowed a few years ago, just before Gerry was born, and then she went and lived with her brother, Thineus-"

"Disby?" Sarah asked, alarmed. Jareth nodded. "That poor woman!"

"Yes, exactly, which is why I would have warned Hoggle not to trifle with her; but given what you saw today, I don't think that will be necessary."

Having eaten their fill, they lapsed into a comfortable silence. _Ask him about the war_, Sarah's mind prompted her. But Sarah was reluctant to bring up such a heavy topic. Thus far, they'd avoided all talk of the Labyrinth and it was a welcome relief. She sat back in her chair, wine glass in hand, and looked around the room. In the far corner, Sarah could make out a small, shining something dangling from a nightstand by …._Jareth's bed!_ It was the only part of the room not illuminated, as if Jareth had wanted to pretend it didn't exist. She could see that the coverlet was dark, but there wasn't enough light to make out an actual color. _Stop thinking about his bed; soon you'll be wondering if he sleeps in the buff!_. Sarah averted her eyes, telling the voice in her head, _Yes, thank you, but I think you've just taken care of that._

Jareth watched as Sarah looked around the room, apparently lost in her own world. "Penny for your thoughts?"

That brought her back to the present. She searched for something to say, anything other than 'do you sleep in pajamas?' _What? Hurry up, think of something!_ "Sir Didymus mentioned a great war fought a thousand years ago. He said you were there. Is that true?"

That was certainly unexpected. "It is." Jareth didn't elaborate.

A light bulb went on in Sarah's mind. "_You_ were the first Goblin King, the only Goblin King." It wasn't an accusation, just a statement of fact.

Jareth, trying to keep the evening light, said, "Yes, you've caught me. I _am_ the one and only Goblin King, but please, no autographs." Sarah didn't say anything, and Jareth realized she was waiting for him to say more. "Look, Sarah, it was a very long time ago. Almost a different lifetime. I didn't tell you because I thought you'd find it unsettling to be around a being that was – as I said – considerably older than you."

"It's a bit disconcerting, yes, but it's really not that big of a deal to me. Would you mind telling me about it ? The war, your past – you must have seen and lived through so much."

"Of course, if you wish. But not now, not tonight." Tonight, he just wanted to dwell on the present, not the bloody past. Sarah was nodding, and he sensed that she really did want to know about it, about him. "I'd be delighted to start the tale tomorrow, but - I have to ask - shall we be continuing your proposition? Quid pro quo?"

Sarah perked up, "Yes, absolutely. And if we are resuming that tomorrow, then tonight is off the record, so to speak. So tell me, Jareth, are you ticklish?"

She'd surprised him again. "Do you know, I have never been asked that question before? Am I ticklish? I really can't say; I've never had any experience in the matter. What about you, Sarah; are you ticklish?"

Sarah was, terribly so, and rather than let him know, she asked, "Is that the time? I really should be getting back." She placed her napkin on the table and stood.

Jareth copied her actions. "Allow me to escort you back to your chamber."

Sarah took his proffered arm, and let him lead her from the room. When they were in the hallway, Sarah realized how closely they were lodged. _I've been here a week and I never realized he was sleeping right next door to me?_ They walked the few feet to her door in silence, and then Sarah released Jareth's arm.

Turning to face him, Sarah said, "Thank you, Jareth. I had a wonderful time. I'll see you in the morning?" Sarah met his eyes and found she couldn't say anything more; didn't he know that she lost all powers of speech when he looked at her like that?!

He nodded, "First thing." She turned to go, but he caught her hand, and raised it to his lips, bestowing a light kiss. "Thank you for a splendid evening, Sarah. Sweet dreams."

Sarah nodded, and retreated inside her room before her knees turned to jelly. As first dates went, _that_ had been perfect. _Wait. First date? Hardly. That was dinner between two friends._ Yes, an unromantic, candlelit dinner for two…inside his _bedroom_. _So_ unromantic, she told herself sarcastically. Even if it had been only that – a dinner between two platonic friends – why had she not been able to take her eyes off of him for minutes at a time? Did he know how well that shirt brought out the blue in his eyes? Had he done it on purpose?

And she had asked him if he was _ticklish!_ She wondered how she had dared. Still, she had learned something about him – he'd been the Goblin King for over a thousand years. That meant for the past thousand years, he'd not talked with another person like him. Sure, there were dwarves and goblins, but there weren't any fae. _He must be so lonely_, Sarah thought. _To be the only one of his kind, on his own, for so long. No wonder he'd looked so careworn when I first arrived – he'd been dealing with the problems in his kingdom alone, with no friends to confide in, to share the burden of his crown with._

"Well, he's got me now," she said to herself. "I'm not fae, but I'm the closest thing at the moment. Maybe I can show him that he's not alone in this. He's not alone in anything."

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_Author's Addenda: What's your favorite flavor of noodle soup?_


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's note: Standard disclaimer still applies. Please review!!_

Sarah awoke, amazed to find that she was already sitting up, her left arm outstretched, grasping for something in the empty air. What had she been dreaming of? _Oh, yes, I remember._ She'd been dreaming of Jareth. But this time, instead of a pleasantly physical dream, she'd had a bit of a nightmare. It wasn't frightening or scary, just sad. He'd stood before her, just out of reach, barely visible in a swirling fog, pleading for her to come to him. _'Come back to me, Sarah. Come back to me,'_ her dream-Jareth had repeated over and over, his tone becoming increasingly desperate and heartrending. She'd tried to go to him, tried to run towards him, tried to catch him in her embrace, but she couldn't ever reach him. The distance between them remained the same no matter what she did, and all the while his pleas for her to _'Come back to me, Sarah,'_ continued. Sarah put a hand to her cheek and felt the moistness of fresh tears. _It felt so real – and I couldn't do anything to ease his pain._ She shook her head: _it was just a dream. It wasn't real. _But Sarah couldn't shake the unease it stirred within her.

She threw back the covers, knowing she'd never get back to sleep. Pulling on a robe to ward off the room's chill, Sarah found a thin taper, which she lit using the banked fireplace. Cupping her hand protectively around the fragile flame, Sarah walked over to her desk and lit a candlestick. Once she had enough light, she sat down and pulled a sheet of stationary towards her.

It'd taken some time to get used to a quill and ink; the great blots on her first few pages of attempts were pitiful, and she'd tossed them into the fire. She was getting better, but her script wasn't anywhere near as elegant and flowing as Jareth's. Of course, she hadn't had a thousand years of practice. _Nor am I likely to get it_, she added. Settling her thoughts, Sarah began to write. She'd been keeping a list of facts and information, purely for personal reference, on the off chance it might come in handy. So far, she'd written a brief description of each day she'd spent in the Underground, and then she'd listed several interesting points. So far, she'd written about how the goblins had built the castle, how Sir Didymus and Jareth were over a thousand years old and had fought a war together, and that Hoggle was in love. She'd also kept a diary of her dreams, although her wording was deliberately vague lest someone should read it. She couldn't imagine what she'd do if Jareth found out that she'd dreamed about snogging him! Still, some of what she recorded was bound to come in useful somewhere down the road, and even if it didn't, it gave her something to do.

Sarah finished her last line '_Despair. Overwhelming sadness, loneliness. 'Come back,' repeated. Unable to reach him. Awoke before resolution of dream.'_ That done, she put the quill down and fanned the paper in the air a few times, blowing on it as she did so, to dry the ink. Out of her window, she could just make out the first traces of dawn. Pale beams of light illuminated a few of the Labyrinth's walls, and Sarah was hit by a sudden feeling of restlessness.

_The day has started! I need to go. W_e_ need to go. I need to go to the Labyrinth, to be inside its walls. Why aren't I there already? _The thoughts gushed through Sarah's mind, a torrent of uncontrollable imperatives. The need to return to the Labyrinth was a tangible pull, an unavoidable call which Sarah rushed to obey. She was half-way out of her robe before she came back to herself. _Whoa, Nellie. I have to wait for Jareth, and he's not likely to be awake at this Godforsaken hour. Calm down._

Sarah tried to. She first took a bath to kill the time, and then she spent an eternity choosing an outfit to wear, but still the sun hadn't broken the horizon. When she was dressed, Sarah paced, walking back and forth in front of the window, checking the sun's position every minute. Was it just her, or did the sunrise appear particularly _hesitant_ this morning? It was almost as if it dreaded what the day might bring, and was drawing out the long wait before the inevitable. Sarah returned to her pacing, wringing her hands together. She couldn't explain where her nervous energy had come from; it didn't have a logical source. All she knew was that the sooner she was inside the Labyrinth, the better.

_Finally! _ The sun rose high enough to bathe the realm in a pale, morning light. Sarah didn't bother waiting for breakfast – she was too wound-up to eat anyway. She simply turned her feet in the direction of Jareth's study, hoping to find him awake and ready to go. Determinedly, Sarah knocked on the door and listened for a reply. Instead of telling her to come in, Jareth opened the door.

Sarah, as wound-up as she was, still noticed straight-away that he was wearing the same things he wore last night: Jareth hadn't been to bed. Suddenly she felt torn, pulled between two mutually exclusive but imperative choices. Jareth had to be exhausted, and he'd have to rest for a few hours at least before they could leave. But Sarah had to go _now_. She couldn't wait an hour; she could barely contemplate waiting ten minutes.

Jareth was surprised to see Sarah so early, and greeted her warmly, if wearily, before noting the desperation and anxiety written in her face. He pulled the door wider, inviting her in wordlessly. Instead of taking the proffered chair, Sarah paced nervously in front of the window.

Jareth watched her, worried by her frantic motions. "Sarah? What is it? What's wrong?"

She continued pacing as she responded, "I don't know; I don't know what happening to me, but I have to get to the Labyrinth. I just have to, and it has to be soon."

Jareth watched her pace, and noted how caged she looked, how trapped. "How soon?" he asked warily.

"Ten minutes. Five. Now. As soon as possible." Sarah continued her pacing, glancing out the window every few seconds. Jareth was loath to go. He knew how the Labyrinth had penetrated her mind before, but he'd thought that while she was within the walls of his castle and his city, she'd be safe. Now it seemed the Labyrinth had invaded her thoughts once more to make her come willingly to it, and that would mean that she was right: the Labyrinth _did_ want Sarah. And that put Jareth on his guard. Giving the Labyrinth what it wanted might appease it for now, but what if it asked for more?

Jareth took another look at Sarah, and saw how the desperation was making her…well…desperate. She couldn't stop moving, nervous energy making her edgy and agitated. He had to put an end to it. "Give me five minutes, Sarah, and we'll go. Five minutes." He waited for a sign that she'd heard him, and then he vanished.

Reappearing in his chambers, Jareth stripped immediately and hastened into his lavatory. Throwing cold water on his face, he tried to clear the fog from his mind. The problem was he was just so _tired_. Tired from want of sleep. Tired from the Labyrinth. Tired from the darkness. Tired from all the unexpected problems. He was simply tired. Last night had been perfect. Sarah had been lovely, he'd managed to keep from making too much of a fool out of himself, and when he'd bidden her goodnight, he'd returned to his chambers, confident he'd sleep well that night.

Unfortunately, when he was two steps from his door, he'd heard the call.

"_I wish the goblins would take you away right now._" The voice had reverberated in his skull, reminding him of his duties by giving him a throbbing headache. He'd vanished on the spot, summoning a glamour to appear as the all-powerful Goblin King, before presenting himself in a shower of magic to the wish-caster.

It had been a young woman, not much younger than Sarah was now, although she was drastically different from how Sarah had been when she'd wished Toby away, in both appearance and demeanor. Sarah had been impetuous, dramatic; the typical misunderstood and overly-put-upon teenager. She hadn't acted out of malice, or ill-intent. She'd simply felt hurt herself, and had lashed out at what she had mistakenly thought was the source of her pain. The moment he'd actually taken the child, she'd been repentant, remorseful, and sorry. He'd even given her the chance to not run the Labyrinth, to forget about Toby, to live in a world where her younger brother didn't exist, with the added bonus of having the power to see her dreams. Those were two things he'd never offered to anyone before. He'd never offered anyone their dreams before, and he'd certainly never offered to give a wish-maker a way out – that wasn't how the game was played. The wish-maker _had_ to attempt the Labyrinth; they had no choice. Jareth had changed the rules for Sarah. He'd done many things for Sarah, but that was beside the point. The point was that she had been given a way to erase her mistake, to pretend it had never happened, and to have a special power, but Sarah had turned it down. Repeatedly. Sarah had been truly sorry for what she'd done, and she'd been determined to set things right.

Not this woman. This woman was not sorry. This woman had the gall to be relieved that her child had been taken, and Jareth had seethed at the thought. When he appeared before her, she'd been relaxing upon a couch, wine glass in hand, with no thought in her head of the screaming three-year-old girl she'd just wished away. He'd put an end to that rather quickly, informing her of the rules of the Labyrinth, of which there was only one: she had to try to get through the Labyrinth, to get to the castle beyond the goblin city, to take back her child. She had thirteen hours before her child became part of the Underground forever. If she didn't compete, she would become part of the Labyrinth herself: a goblin, a statue, a gnarled-tree…his magic wasn't very particular. Jareth had pointed her in the direction of the Labyrinth, just outside her front door, and then he'd vanished, unwilling to remain in her company a moment longer.

Perhaps it was reckless of him, to send someone into the Labyrinth while the darkness still remained. But the darkness hadn't shown any sign of growth in the past week, and Jareth had taken the precaution to direct the wish-maker to the entrance of the Labyrinth farthest from the darkness. That was enough of a precaution in Jareth's mind. If harm did befall the woman, he wouldn't be heartbroken.

The wished-away child was in his throne room, in the blanketed hollow before his throne, surrounded by boisterous goblins. The child had been screaming, tears and howls fighting their way out of her little body. Jareth felt it tug on his heart as he watched her cry. She had every reason to be upset: her mother had been mean to her, and then her mother had gone away, _and_ she was no doubt frightened by the goblins. Every child that had ever been wished away had been initially terrified of the goblins, every child but one.

Jareth scooped up the crying girl, who he later learned was named Dawn, and held her close, rocking her gently as he hummed a lullaby. At length, her tears ceased, and she fell into an exhausted slumber. Jareth had nestled her into those blankets so that only her mop of red curls and her freckles were visible, and then he'd gone to see how far her mother had progressed. Just before the sun had crested, it had become apparent that the mother, although forced to run the Labyrinth, was not going to win. She didn't want to. Sensing the imminent sunrise, Jareth had sent her home, bending the rules of the game. It hadn't been thirteen hours yet, but he had other duties to attend to, which he now had to complete without any rest.

Deep down, he was thankful people like that always had some idea about goblins; and when put to it, would wish their neglected and sometimes abused children away to the goblins. The lives their children would live otherwise would be…very dark. No, he'd rather lose sleep any day than not fulfill his duty. Dawn was still asleep in his throne room, but he had left her under the watchful eye of Mrs. Chartha, whose rigid personality aside, had the air of a mother-hen around any child. She'd be there when thirteen hours had passed, and Dawn transformed into a goblin. She'd be there when Dawn awoke, with only a dim memory of her past life. She'd be there to guide Dawn into her new life as part of the Underground, as part of the Labyrinth.

The Labyrinth. That brought Jareth back to the matter at hand. He quickly selected serviceable black pants and a leather jacket. After changing into them, he pulled his boots on, ran a hand through his hair, grabbed the bag of provisions Mrs. Chartha had left for them, and then vanished. Sarah was still pacing, her lips compressed into a tight line. Jareth said nothing, silently indicating that Sarah should precede him out of the room. She walked briskly out of the room and by the way her steps seemed to jerk, Jareth could tell she was fighting the urge to run. No matter; he grabbed her elbow, and with a look from Sarah giving him her silent consent, he magicked them to the doors of the Labyrinth.

The second they appeared there the doors burst open, eagerly inviting Sarah to enter, which she was only to happy to do. Jareth matched her quickening pace, reluctant to let her get more than a foot away from him. The second they crossed the threshold, the change in Sarah was instantaneous. She slowed her pace, took a deep, steadying breath, and then let it out slowly. Her shoulders dropped, her spine relaxed into a laidback posture. As Sarah relaxed, so too did Jareth. _So far, so good,_ he thought to himself.

Sarah barely registered the change in her demeanor as she told the Labyrinth in her mind: _I told you I would come back. I told you. And now I have. There's nothing to worry about. I'm here. Even if I go away again, I will come back. It's all right to trust me. I won't let you down. I won't abandon you. _Sarah kept up the string of encouraging thoughts, sending them like little beacons of hope to the Labyrinth. When she'd finished, she could have sworn she felt the Labyrinth relax, and suddenly the sun was at full light, no longer holding back. All was right at the moment.

"Sarah?"

She looked at Jareth, realizing he probably had no idea what was going on. "I'm sorry I didn't explain, Jareth. It's just that when I awoke this morning, this overwhelming urge to return to the Labyrinth claimed me, and I couldn't fight it. I had to come here. I _had_ to. I can't explain it any better than that."

Jareth was quiet for a moment, and then asked "Was it like before, on our first day in the Labyrinth, when you felt those other inexplicable emotions?"

Hmmm. _It was sort of like then, but it was not the same. _In some small part, the need to return to the Labyrinth had come from Sarah. But why she had needed to do so was inexplicable. "It was similar, but not completely like then. Then, none of what I felt came from me. But this morning, only part of it came from elsewhere, and the rest came from me. I felt – I feel," she corrected herself, "almost attached to the Labyrinth. Bound, in some small way, as silly as it sounds."

It didn't sound silly to Jareth, not by any means. In fact, it made a very terrifying sort of sense. Earlier today, he'd not been able to magick himself inside the Labyrinth. A trick of that sort required a significant amount of magic, and he hadn't been able to summon it while inside the Labyrinth. There'd been a strange and unyielding block on his power. He'd still had a little magic, enough to conjure a foreboding glamour and a few other awe-inspiring tricks to keep the wish-caster on her toes. But it was almost as if he was being cut off from the Labyrinth, denied the right to exercise his magic, one of his most fundamental qualities. Before, he'd felt alienated from the Labyrinth, both by its refusal to heed his magic, and its erratic behavior. Now, the feeling doubled; he'd never felt less connected to the Labyrinth, not since before he became king.

_My powers both over and within the Labyrinth diminish at the same time Sarah's bond with the Labyrinth strengthens. Coincidence?_ Jareth didn't think so. It seemed the Labyrinth did want Sarah, but not just as a possession. _Perhaps_, Jareth thought to himself. _That's just a possibility to consider, not a certainty. _Jareth tabled the thought, and returned to Sarah, asking, "Has the feeling passed now?"

Sarah nodded. "Yes. It's gone now."

Jareth forced a nonchalant tone. "Well, no harm has been done. If it happens again, we know how to appease it. Best not to dwell on it." Everything was good now; no need to add pointless worrying into the mix.

Doing as Jareth said, Sarah tried not to dwell on it. Instead, she turned to the next question on her mind, "Were you awake the entire night?"

_One point to Sarah for her powers of observation_, Jareth thought wryly before answering. "I was."

A cryptic answer, if she'd ever heard one before. Dare she ask him why? _Why not?_ she told herself. What had she to lose? "Why? Did something happen? Was there an emergency?" She couldn't have slept through it.

"No, nothing of the sort," Jareth said firmly. "I was …summoned…away. A duty I had to attend to." Sarah looked confused, and Jareth was too tired to dance around the truth, no matter what memories it evoked. "A child was wished away to the goblins," he said simply.

Sarah's lips formed a round 'o' of surprise and she walked quietly for a few minutes, apparently lost in her thoughts. "So that part _was_ real," she said to herself.

Jareth wasn't sure if she had meant for him to hear that, but he answered anyway. "Yes, that part_ is_ real. I am the goblin king, and when a child is wished away to the goblins, that child becomes my responsibility. Because I represent the goblins, _I_ am summoned to parlay with the wish-casters, to set out the terms of the arrangement. I have no choice but to go. It is my duty."

Sarah was unsure how to respond. Did he mean that because he had no choice in the matter, he did not like fulfilling his duty? What was it exactly that he was bound to do? "What exactly is your duty?"

Jareth began to explain. "When I became king of this realm, and of the goblins in particular, I swore many oaths, and one of them was to uphold the purpose of this realm, even though at the time, I was still uncertain as to what that was." He shifted his bag, and continued. "My_duty_ involves granting wishes, a very particular sort of wish."

"I wish the goblins would come and take you away, right now?" Sarah supplied tonelessly.

Jareth nodded. "Yes, that one. As soon as the wish is spoken, I must grant it. I send forth the goblins to take the child, and bring it to the castle, and then I go to the person who made the wish. I tell them what they must do, and set forth the terms and conditions, and then leave them to the Labyrinth."

Sarah couldn't help asking: "What happens to the child?"

"While the wish-caster competes against the Labyrinth, the child remains with me, and my goblins."

"You_ personally_ tend to the child?"

Jareth smiled. "You needn't sound so shocked, Sarah. I do know a thing or two about children. But yes, I do tend to the child. You can imagine how excited they are when they arrive; how scared. I do my best to calm them down, to soothe them. For some, that requires a substantial amount of effort on my part. I check in on the challenger from time-to-time, to see how they have progressed, or haven't progressed through the Labyrinth. At the end of thirteen hours, I send them back to the Aboveground."

"And what happens to the child then?"

"And then the child becomes a goblin. That is one of the functions of the Labyrinth. Not much about the initial history of the Labyrinth is known, but for as long as I can remember, it has been known as the source of all goblins."

Sarah stared at him for a moment, before saying, "So that part was also true."

They reached a hill of sorts, and Jareth climbed up first. He reached down to give Sarah a hand, and when she'd taken his hand and looked back down at her feet, he felt the bravery to say, "Yes. At that time, everything that you read in the play was real. _Everything_," Jareth repeated. It was silly of Jareth, but some small part of him wanted her to know that he had loved her. It was as close as he could come to telling her he still loved her.

Sarah's hand twitched in his, before she reluctantly let him go. She walked quietly along, thinking. The little she'd come to know of Jareth in the time she'd been here had told her how _much_ she'd misinterpreted about her thirteen hours here before. Now, she was uncertain just what had been real, and what she had taken for granted. _Is he trying to say that he _did love me_ then, but not now? _Well, she had refused him. What else could she expect? _And he _would_have turned Toby into a goblin. So I was right to refuse him. Mostly. _

Jareth watched Sarah think, torn between wanting her to realize what he'd meant, and wanting to pretend he'd never said anything. He saw her start to protest, and wondered if she would bring it up.

"But Jareth, you're not anything like the king in the play."

_That_ was certainly unexpected. Jareth waited for her to elaborate.

"The king in the play was cruel, domineering; unkind…you're not like that at all. You're…" What was he? "You're a good king. You're caring, and compassionate. And you're a good friend."

She was blushing, most becomingly, Jareth noted.

_Change the subject, quickly_, Sarah thought. "And I was hardly treated as a slave by my parents. It was wrong of me to wish Toby away – wrong, unfeeling, and foolish of me. Poor Toby." She looked away, her next words coming out in a hurried rush. "I don't know what you must have thought of me; _poor spoiled girl, wishing away her innocent baby brother_…"

"I didn't think that at all," Jareth told Sarah firmly. "Sarah, you have no idea how different you were from other wish-casters." How could he make her see that without revealing too much? "I offered you the chance to forget about Toby, and you refused. I gave you so many opportunities to turn your back on him, to walk away freely, and you turned them all down. You were sorry; you wanted to make it right. You realized your mistake right away and tried to mend it. You have no idea how rare that is."

"What do you mean?" Sarah asked slowly.

"When children are wished away, usually it's by parents who should never have been parents in the first place. They don't want their children back, and as sad as it is, it's probably the best thing for their children. They're much better off here, as goblins, than they would be as neglected and oft-times abused children in the Aboveground. The majority of the cases over the years have been like that, and it's almost a pleasure to see those parents fail the Labyrinth."

Sarah was confused. "But if they don't want their children back, why do they even bother with running the Labyrinth?"

"Because they have no choice. That's how the game is played. They have to attempt the Labyrinth, or become part of it forever. And before you say anything, I did suspend that rule in your case." _I broke a lot of rules for you_, he added in his mind.

"How many …wish-casters…have ever solved the Labyrinth?" If Sarah had been able to do it, then she reasoned that at the very least, a hundred or so others should have been able to do the same. At the very least.

"During my entire reign as Goblin King?" Jareth asked, for clarification. Sarah nodded, and Jareth answered: "One."

"Oh," was all she could say for a few minutes. Then: "What happens when the wish-casters return to the aboveground empty-handed?"

"I erase all memory of the child from all _but_ the wish-caster. They will always remember their deed. Maybe someday, they'll come to regret their actions."

Sarah thought for a moment and realized: "But Jareth, it's not been thirteen hours yet. Where is the child that was wished-away last night?"

"Dawn is with Mrs. Chartha, sleeping soundly, when last I looked."

Sarah didn't miss the protective note in his voice when he said her name, and she admired it. "Dawn? That's a beautiful name. How old is she?"

Jareth smiled again. "She's about three-and-a-half years old, or at least that's what she told me. She may have been only three, and was rounding up."

Sarah grinned slightly, but then became serious again as she asked: "How does the transformation work?"

"After thirteen hours, the magic of this place transforms every mortal child into a goblin. I've seen it hundreds of times. It happens in the blink of an eye. One moment they're a human child, and the next they're a goblin. That's really all there is to it. And once they've made the transformation, they don't remember anything about their past lives." He was silent for a moment before adding, "In most cases, it's for the best. They can start a new life, with a new and loving family. There are numerous goblin couples waiting for a child; they're only too happy to adopt the recent additions."

That seemed to satisfy Sarah presently, but soon enough another question popped into her head. "The children come from a variety of different places, don't they?"

"Yes," Jareth answered, intrigued, "from all over the Aboveground. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's just that some of their names are so…well, unusual. That's all." _Vilha, for one. _She cleared her throat. "So, if I hadn't reached Toby when I did, he would have become a goblin too?" Sarah had mixed reactions to the idea. On one hand, she knew that there was absolutely nothing wrong with goblin children – they were as sweet and loveable as human children. But on the other hand, Toby was her brother…and the idea of him as a goblin just didn't sit right with her.

Jareth was quick to answer "No. It was never my intention to allow that to happen. I wouldn't have let it happen."

Sarah knew she was getting into the tricky of "ifs" and "would haves", but she had to ask: "Would you have sent him back to the Aboveground if I hadn't made my way to the castle?"

Jareth answered honestly: "Yes. If you had wished it. If you had wished to return to the Aboveground, I would have sent you back as well. I would have never kept you or your brother here against your will." _I would have returned you to your home regardless; you were too young, far too young, even if you had wanted me._

"Then I was right," Sarah said, "You're not anything like the king in the play."

"I'm glad you think so," was all Jareth had to say. He was relieved in more ways than one. Getting the discussion about her time in the Labyrinth over…how the situation had started, at least…was a weight off of his chest. They didn't have to dance around that subject anymore. And Sarah had treated the topic so well – so reasonably, so maturely – it was a nice relief. It was almost cathartic. _And_ she thought he was a good king. _What else did she say I was? Oh, yes: _A good friend.

Jareth was thrilled, really, he was. But he was also tired. Last night hadn't been the first sleepless night he'd passed this week. He couldn't prevent a yawn, although he covered it discreetly with his hand.

Sarah noticed anyway, and decided to spare him. "We've been walking for a while now; let's stop. I'm tired." She hoped she wasn't being too obvious.

Jareth didn't say anything; he simply pointed to a small clearing on their left, similar to the withered box-gardens of two days before. After they'd both sat down and eaten a little something, Jareth masked another yawn before saying, "Well, we've spent most of the morning talking about me. I think it's time we turned the tables. Tell me something about yourself, Sarah. Anything you want." He settled his back against the wall, searching for a comfortable position.

"Anything?"

"Anything," he repeated.

While Sarah thought of something to tell him, Jareth continued to get comfortable, stretching his legs out before him. Sarah wasn't sure how long he'd be awake to listen to what she said, so she chose an innocuous story about the first – and last – time she'd ridden a pony. Sure enough, his eyes closed after a few minutes. She spoke a bit softer, for a few more minutes, and then she tried calling his name. When he didn't respond, she assumed he was asleep.

Sarah leaned forward, kneeling before him, and just looked at him. He looked so peaceful. The worries that visibly weighed on him were gone for once, his face completely relaxed. This was Sarah's first chance to really look at him, as much as she wanted, without interruption, and she took full advantage of it. He was so _handsome_. She'd noticed before, she couldn't help it. But now she really saw how truly gorgeous he was. If she had dreamed of the perfect man, and fashioned his appearance herself, Jareth is what she would have dreamed of. In fact, she _did_ dream of him. He literally was the man of her dreams.

Half an hour later, Sarah realized she hadn't moved from that position, kneeling before Jareth, just looking at him. He really was amazing. She raised a hand to touch his face, but stopped herself before she made contact. _What would he think if he woke up and saw me? He'd think I was crazy!_ Sarah sat back, and as she did, the feeling came back into her legs, giving her that ubiquitous pins-and-needles feeling. Standing up, she waited for full sensation and function to return, and happened to notice something a few yards away. When she could walk, she went to investigate.

Jareth awoke several hours later and reached a gloved hand up to massage the crick in his neck. By the angle and intensity of the light, he could tell he'd been asleep for a while. It was quiet. Too quiet. Suddenly he jumped to his feet, completely awake. He turned to his right, and then quickly to his left, scanning the entire area around him. Dread and panic rose within his heart: Sarah was gone.

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_Author's Addendum: So, what's your favorite name, and why? Tell me about it in a review:D_


	15. Chapter 15

_Author's note: Sorry about the delay. It seems that updating once a week is about all I'm going to be able to manage for a while, and so I send you this chapter wrapped in my most humble apologies. As always, please review!_

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Jareth took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "Sarah?" he called, in a slightly elevated voice. Nothing. He called again, louder, and listened. Nothing. Once more he called, almost shouting her name, and still there was no answer. Still fighting to remain calm, Jareth cast out a mental hand, grasping for enough power to magick himself away. He cast his mental nets out further and further before he remembered that that particular skill required too much magic. Abandoning the effort with a frustrated cry, Jareth changed tactics and leapt into the air, transforming into Owl-Jareth instantly. Transforming between different forms required a different kind of magic altogether, one the Labyrinth had no power over. He soared upwards, in ever increasing circles, looking for Sarah. There was no sign of her. His tiny owl-heart beat frantically against his delicate ribcage as he pumped his wings once more, expanding his search.

Before long, he found her, his keen eyes discerning the sun glinting off of her chestnut hair. Owl-Jareth sank into a fast dive, his focus narrowing until Sarah was all he saw. Right before he hit the ground, Jareth transformed into his fae form, landing hard on his booted feet. Sarah, lost in her own world, didn't hear him until he landed. She turned around at the sound of his fast footsteps, surprise on her face. She made to greet him, but changed her mind when she saw his furious expression.

"What's wrong?" she asked instead.

"What's wrong? What's _wrong?_ What's wrong?!" He repeated the question incredulously, his voice rising with each iteration. "Where were you?!"

Sarah stood perfectly still, stunned by the angry accusation in his tone.

He didn't wait for her to answer. "Have you any idea how terrified I was when I woke up and you weren't there? Do you know what that kind of fear feels like?! Do you?!" He was dangerously near shouting, one hand clutched over his heart to calm his raging pulse.

Sarah didn't know what else to say, except, "I'm sorry."

That only seemed to incense Jareth further. "Sorry? You're sorry?!" Jareth swore loudly and turned away, running a shaking hand through his hair. When he turned back, he told her, "Don't you ever do that to me again, _do you understand me_?" His voice dangerously restrained; his face was white with fright and anger.

Sarah eyed the throbbing artery in his neck, and took her time answering him. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I never expected to go so far, and when I left, you were sleeping so peacefully that I didn't want to wake you…"

He interrupted her, asking: "What possessed you to leave? How hard would it have been to wake me?" He approached her, pointing a finger in her direction. "You promised on your first day here that you would_never _go anywhere in the Labyrinth without someone accompanying you. You promised me that. How _dare you_ go off on your own? Do you have any idea what could have happened?" Nervous energy was fueling his tirade, and Jareth didn't seem to be able to stop himself.

"I said I was sorry, okay?! I'm sorry I didn't stay put. I'm sorry I broke my word. I'm sorry I let you sleep when you clearly needed to! I'm sorry!" Now _she_ was shouting.

"Sorry isn't enough, Sarah! Do you have _any_ idea how terrified I was when I couldn't find you? How terrified I was that something had happened to you?"

"But _nothing_ happened to me, Jareth! I'm fine!"

"That isn't the point, Sarah-"

"Then what is, Jareth?! The fact that you were _worried_ about me?"

Ah. She'd hit the nail on the head. Jareth's angry retort died in his throat, and he closed his mouth, his anger fading. Sarah watched the fire burn out of him with a pang of regret; the sight of him so incensed had been deeply attractive.

"I'm sorry, Jareth," she said softly, no longer shouting. "Truly, I am. I never meant to scare you. Nothing happened, thankfully. Can you forgive me?"

Jareth took a steadying breath. He couldn't refuse her anything. "Don't do it again, Sarah. Please." He didn't wait for her response, wanting to put this shouting match behind them. "What drew you to this particular area?" he asked, trying for a calm tone.

Sarah accepted his efforts for peace, and told him, "I saw something moving a few yards away from where we were, and I went to see what it was. It was some of that eye-lichen. It was alive, unlike all the other ones we've seen. When I went and looked at it, I saw another one a few yards away, and then another one after that…and so on until you arrived."

"Indeed. Well, that certainly seems to be a positive sign. I'm glad you noticed, Sarah." It was as much of an apology as she would ever get.

"Thank you, Jareth. I think the Labyrinth is coming back to life, bit by bit. I can almost feel it. First that flower, and then the lichens…who knows what will be next?"

"Who indeed?" Jareth cast an eye towards the sky and noted the position of the sun. "If you wouldn't mind, perhaps we might search for other signs of new life on our way back to the city?"

Sarah mirrored his action, noting how the sun was almost ready to set. As she turned to go, she took his arm, even though he hadn't offered it. Jareth tried not to show how much her closeness affected him, how much her touch sent excited shivers down his spine. He simply began walking, with Sarah beside him, and together they began the long trek out of the Labyrinth.

-------------------------

Sarah put her quill down and eyed her sizeable stack of stationary. It had been seven days since she and Jareth had had their first argument, and she'd learned so much since that day that she'd been hard-pressed to record it all. Leaning back in her chair, Sarah turned to what she had written seven days ago and began to read.

_The goblins really do come to claim wished-away children. That part of my time here was real; it wasn't just some invention to get me here. Jareth came because I wished Toby away. And maybe because he loved me, once. Anyway, the person who wishes away their child has to try and get through the Labyrinth to get their child back or they become part of the Labyrinth. If they don't succeed after thirteen hours, the child becomes a goblin and has no memory of his or her past life, and the person who wished them away is sent back to the Aboveground. All memory of the child is erased, magically, but the wish-caster is not allowed to forget their child. _

The next day, Sarah had probed Jareth for all the details he could recall about his childhood. She'd wanted to know about his parents, his siblings, his home, his schooling, his favorite pastimes…anything that he would have been willing to tell her. When Sarah had told Jareth what sort of person she thought he was, she had spoken instinctually. She'd had two week's worth of observations to support her assertions, but two weeks weren't enough to confidently make that sort of assessment. But Sarah had been confident because deep down, she knew he was a good king, she knew he was compassionate, she knew he was a good friend…it was instinctual. She just felt it. But Sarah wanted to know why she _knew_ it. She wanted to know all about him, and maybe if she dug deep enough, she'd discover what it was that made him the man he was today.

Jareth had been slightly uncomfortable talking about his past. He'd only responded to direct questions, like her request for his full name. Sarah read over the long name once more, smirking at how many attempts it had taken her to spell it correctly: _Jareth Bendefig Achlesydd 'n Arobryn Chanasgre Oberonex_. On her seventh try, Sarah'd gotten it right. What's more is that she knew she'd gotten it right because she'd had Jareth spell it out for her, several times in fact.

On the fifth recitation, Jareth had quirked an elegant eyebrow and asked: "Why do you want to know how it's spelled, Sarah? Are you thinking of writing my biography?"

"No," she said airily, "I just wanted to see if you could spell it."

"Are you impressed?" Jareth had asked, a note of playful hope in his tone.

In a mock-serious voice Sarah'd replied, "Terribly so." She'd watched him puff out his chest with pride until unrestrained laughter had overwhelmed her.

Jareth's posture had deflated instantly, but then he teased back, "I'll be impressed if you can manage to spell it correctly when you record it in your notes tonight."

Sarah's laughs had ceased abruptly. "You know about that?" she'd asked incredulously. "You saw my notes?"

"You were the one who invited me into your rooms."

Oh. She hadn't had a retort for that. She _had _invited him into her rooms, and she'd relished the feeling of sensual awareness brought about by having him so near to her bed. With that happy thought in her head, Sarah hadn't been able to form an articulate response to Jareth's matter-of-fact statement. Thankfully, he'd shown no outward sign of knowing just what was foremost in her thoughts. Instead, he'd continued to talk about her notes.

"Well, I confess I didn't know they were notes before now. I only saw that you'd been writing, and I made an educated guess."

"What would you have guessed if it hadn't been notes?" Sarah had asked, keeping her rosy face carefully averted.

Jareth eyed her flushed face with interest, but said "Oh, I don't know. A drawing, perhaps? Do you sketch at all, Sarah?"

"No," she'd lied, thinking: _He's not asking if I've made some sketches; he's asking if I know how to draw, and that answer is huge, resounding 'no,' so technically I'm not lying._

But then again, technically she had been. Sarah looked up from her reading and eyed the handful of rudimentary sketches she'd made. They were poor quality, but they weren't meant to be art. They were meant for a different purpose altogether. Thinking about them put nervous butterflies in Sarah's belly, and she returned her attention to her notes.

_He is the eldest son of the High King and High Queen of the Underground, Oberon and Titania. He was 'groomed,' as he put it, for the throne since the day when he cast his first spell. He had tutors for every subject imaginable, and spent countless hours shadowing his father. His younger brother, Charles, was born when Jareth was 116, and his younger sister, Astera, was born when Jareth was 245. By that time, he'd already come of age, at 200 years old, and had completed his education. He'd been granted a small kingship in the west, a place called Somnaria. The last king had died without issue, and the country was in need of a monarch. In Somnaria dwelled the Breudwyds, supernatural creatures that could take any form they desired. A few still resided in the Labyrinth, although he'd not seen them in years. He ruled without problem for almost 300 years, and then the great war arose._

So many holes glared at Sarah from that passage. She knew he'd had a first spell, but what was it? Had he transported himself from the lap of his father to the arms of his mother? Had he made one of his toys dance? Had he even had toys? And what about his father? He'd shadowed the High King, but what of their relationship? Had he looked up to his father, respected him, wanted to be just like him? Or had he resented his father, hated how the kingdom had always come first, and Jareth and his siblings second? And what about his siblings? Had they been allies or rivals? Had they roamed around the castle, an inseparable trio, or had they spent their days trying to one-up the others?

And then he'd been sent to the kingdom Somnaria. Sarah'd pressed him enough to learn that he'd liked it there, that he'd been relatively happy. But then the wall in his eyes had come down again, and she hadn't been able to ask what it was that he'd liked, or anything else on the subject. _At least he'd had more to say about the war, _Sarah thought to herself, returning to the papers before her

_Jareth didn't say where it originated, but a collective movement was started among the fae to 'cleanse' the Underground. _

Sarah stopped reading for a moment, remembering the terrible distaste with which Jareth had uttered the word 'cleanse.' He'd looked physically sickened by the term, and she'd resisted the urge to put a comforting arm around his shoulders.

_That was a euphemism for getting rid of all unsightly, beastly-looking creatures. Rumors were spread about them, how they did all sorts of ridiculous evil things, like making horses unwilling to carry a rider and making fae children ill-tempered. _

"It was completely ludicrous," Jareth said, over and over. "I couldn't believe it when I first heard it, but when I realized those ridiculous lies were taken seriously…"Jareth hadn't finished his sentence, but Sarah hadn't needed him to. He'd gone on to talk about restrictions placed upon those poor creatures, how goblins couldn't work for paying and dwarves couldn't roam the streets after sundown. The rules were arbitrary and inane, but they were rules all the same. The goal had seemed to be to relegate those creatures to the dregs of society, to contain them, to trap them in the lowest positions possible. But soon it wasn't enough. The movement intensified, and the original goal became obvious: they were going to rid the Underground of its unwanted citizens. They were going to kill them off.

_But by the time he learned of it, it was too late to stop it peacefully. The movement was too firmly entrenched; it needed a forceful opposition to dislodge it. So, instead, he convinced his citizens to fight against the outrage and he spent much time privately uniting gnomes, goblins, dwarves, and ogres, creating a singular army to fight against the fae. _

_At length, they had a sizeable army, but still he held back, unwilling to begin the bloody battle. In one last, diplomatic stab, Jareth went to the capital city and publicly declared himself against the cruel doctrine, hoping his status as High Prince might make a difference. He delivered an ultimatum to the High King and Queen: give up this foolishness, or he would renounce his claim to the throne. Unfortunately, the High King and Queen were prepared for that, and introduced him to his replacement: his younger brother Charles. Jareth said he gave him a dignified bow, and then walked away, never to return. When Jareth returned to Somnaria, he saw what his stand against the fae majority had cost him. While he had been addressing the High King and Queen –_and Sarah noted that he didn't refer to them as his parents – _a radical fae army had torn through his kingdom. He returned to find little but ashes and blood. _

Sarah had understood then why he'd been reluctant to talk about his time in Somnaria; perhaps the loss of it, and the way it was lost, was still too close to Jareth's heart.

_A few Breudwyds remained alive and well, and they were incensed, eager to fight in the war. _

At the word "war," Jareth had noticed how her posture changed, how her spine had straightened as she waited to learn about the subject that had sparked her interest a week ago. He'd given her a wry smile and stated, "Yes, there was a war." His smile faded and his expression became brooding once more. "And it was long and bloody."

_The war lasted for years. _Jareth had spoken quite matter-of-factly about it at first, reporting figures and statistics quickly, as if recalling any more details would be too much for him to bear. _Many died, even among his enemies, the fae. Fae are immortal, if left to their own devices, but they can be killed by iron._

Later, when he'd been talking a while and had taken up that wall in his eyes, he'd told her stories about the war, some of them funny, like the goblin corporal who had never ridden a ragwyr before. He'd mounted his rat-like steed backwards, and ridden it for an entire day that way. It was only when the ragwyr had had enough of walking backwards that it _gently _informed the corporal of his mistake. But not all the tales were light. Most of them were sad, painting a picture of heroic loss in Sarah's mind, and she skimmed over the ones she'd recorded, skipping past the tear-splotched pages.

The next entry detailed the end of the war.

_They retreated to the deserts of oblivion, to the very walls of the Labyrinth, and still the fae army pursued them. Jareth was faced with the decision to either make a heroic but final stand in that desolate desert or to try their luck in the Labyrinth. He chose the latter. He'd led what remained of his army and their families to find the gates of the Labyrinth. Not knowing why he'd done it, he'd asked the Labyrinth to show them the way inside its walls, and the doors had opened immediately. _

_Jareth said he felt strangely upon entering the Labyrinth, as if he were being watched, weighed, and measured. He led his followers through the maze,_ "On a trek that lasted significantly longer than thirteen hours," he'd said with a slight grin. _The fae army had been fast on their heels, and the scouts he'd sent out reported to him that the Labyrinth had been infiltrated by the enemy. Upon hearing that news, Jareth led the remnants of his once enormous following deeper into the Labyrinth, somehow instinctively knowing the way. When he reached the city of goblins, and stood upon the rough-hewn stone formation at the very center, Jareth said he felt a change._

"The Labyrinth seemed to swell. It surrounded us, almost protecting us. The intruding fae army was staved off and driven back by unseen hands, by unknown magic. It was as if the Labyrinth was refusing to let harm come to us, making itself into an impenetrable barrier to our enemies. For the first time in years, we were _safe_." Even now, a thousand years later, his relief hadn't diminished.

_Jareth spent several days investigating the center of the Labyrinth. At that time, it was a primitive goblin village, but its inhabitants had been hospitable. Since the Labyrinth had taken them in, Jareth had felt it safe to trust these villagers. What choice had he had? When provisions had been secured and temporary dwellings had been erected, Jareth went to parlay with the fae forces. Alone._ _He didn't tell me what he told them, or what they told him. All he said was that they too had suffered losses and no longer wished to fight. An agreement was reached: the fae would leave off their purpose and allow Jareth and his followers to remain within the Labyrinth, unmolested and free to do as they pleased as long as they stayed within the Labyrinth's boundaries. Another attempt to remove the unwanted creatures from the Underground would not be made, so long as they remained within the Labyrinth. No conditions were placed upon Jareth, but none were needed. Nothing remained for him outside of the Labyrinth. _Sarah had seen the loss hidden in his words: fighting for what was right and decent had cost him his kingdom, his subjects, and his chance to rule the Underground. But although there had been sadness in his words, there hadn't been bitterness. Jareth may miss what he'd had, but he didn't want it back, and Sarah admired him for that. Not wanting to dwell on that bleak topic, she'd tried to talk about something else, something lighter.

"So the Labyrinth is the reason you have no heir."

Jareth didn't pause in his walking, but he had given Sarah a surprised look, the mirror of her own. She'd had no idea why she'd even brought the subject up. Why didn't she just try and find out if he was ticklish while she was at it?! Sarah had shaken her head slightly as if to clear it, and then elaborated. "I only meant that you've been tied to the Labyrinth ever since then, and with no allies in the rest of the Underground, I wouldn't think marriage would have been high on your list of priorities." _God,_ she remembered thinking, _why do I have to blush _now

Jareth had looked most intrigued. "Am I to understand, Sarah, that you think I am _not_ married?"

Sarah would have given anything to escape from that particular conversation, but she'd asked the now-unavoidable question anyway, "_Are_ you married?"

Jareth, seeming to take a little bit too much delight in her discomfiture, answered unhelpfully, "You don't seem to think so. I'm sure you know enough about me now to realize I wouldn't let a lack of allies stand in my way to matrimony, so there must be some other reason why you think I am unsuitable for marriage." Sarah'd instantly protested, quickly trying to tell him she'd thought nothing of the sort, but he'd cut her off, speaking over her. "Tell me, Sarah, what about me is it that makes me a thoroughly bad prospect as a husband?" His affectation of wounded pride would have been spoiled by the teasing look in his eyes, save that Sarah hadn't noticed it yet.

"You're not unsuitable for marriage, Jareth! I meant nothing of the sort. I only meant that the opportunity wouldn't have presented itself because you were too busy being a good king to take the time to look for it. I know you'd make a good husband. You're exactly the right sort of man, the one every girl dreams of finding. You're a far sight better than any man I've ever met, and if I ever were to walk down the aisle, you'd be…" She'd slapped a hand over her mouth then, but it had been too late.

"Yes?" He prompted, a triumphant grin on his face. It was then that Sarah noticed how he wasn't offended in the least, and that he'd effectively trapped her into telling him how marriageable he was, and almost into blatantly admitting that she would marry him, _which is absurd because I hardly know him, _she thought to herself. _Oh, puh-leese,_ her mind's voice replied, _don't take that stance. You've dreamed of doing a ton of other things to him far racier than marrying him, before you knew him as well as you do now, so don't get all high-and-mighty on me._

Sarah politely told her mind's voice to go to hell, while she took her thoughts elsewhere. She eyed the stack of stationary to her left, the one without any writing on it. She would have loved to have been able to fill those blank pages with information about the darkness, but Jareth had been resolutely vague on that topic. He'd parried her questions about it relentlessly, as if he didn't even want her to think about it. And that was a problem. Sarah _wanted_ to think about the darkness. She was ecstatic that the Labyrinth seemed to be coming back to life. She knew it had to be something about her presence that was rejuvenating the Labyrinth, and even though she didn't know what it was she was doing to make things better, she was content with the knowledge that she was helping. Now she wanted to turn their efforts towards solving the darkness. She was there, after all, to help fix the _entire_ Labyrinth.

She'd brought that point up several times too, but Jareth had always had an answer: "Yes, the Labyrinth does seem to be coming back to life. And I agree, it's wonderful. It truly is. But I want to make sure it lasts before we turn our attentions to anything else."

Jareth might have been afraid that if Sarah shifted her focus from the Labyrinth to the darkness, the Labyrinth might rebel and revert to how it had been in her absence. He also might have been afraid of what the darkness might do if they tried to interfere with it. He might have been afraid that things would get worse, that the darkness would expand and devour more and more of the Labyrinth. Jareth could have had any number of fears about the darkness that made him hesitate, but Sarah didn't know what any of them were because he would not _talk about it_.

After several days of unanswered questions about the darkness, with Jareth starting to show irritation at her persistent queries, Sarah had given up. She'd have to ask someone else about the darkness, or she would be forced to figure it out on her own.

She'd gone to ask Hoggle about it yesterday when she and Jareth had returned. Before she could get the first question out, Hoggle'd preempted her with a question of his own.

"Sarah, I was wondering, if yer not too busy, that is, that maybe you'd like to have dinner with me 'n Clara t'morrow night." Hoggle turned red halfway through his invitation, but resolutely continued. "You can say no if you've got other plans. It's just she's heard me talk about you, and says she wants to meet you, only she was a bit nervous about askin' you herself. Will you come?"

His face was so hopeful, his manner so earnest, that Sarah was powerless to refuse. "Oh, Hoggle, of course I'll come! What time should I be there? What should I bring? Where are we eating?"

Hoggle'd relaxed visibly, and told her quickly the location and time, and that she wasn't to bring a thing. Sarah'd smiled to see Hoggle so happy, and told Jareth so at dinner that night. They'd eaten together every night since their first 'date,' as Sarah _didn't_ like to call it, and he was as excited for Hoggle as she was, although he didn't exhibit the same, effervescent happiness that Sarah did. What had gone unspoken in her announcement of Hoggle's invitation was that Sarah wouldn't be dining with Jareth that night.

She'd taken her leave of him earlier today, when they'd returned. She felt pang of resentment directed towards Hoggle when she realized she might not see Jareth again until tomorrow night, as tomorrow was Jareth's day to make his rounds. Sarah had told him she'd be spending the day with her friends, and that if he wasn't busy that night, she'd love to have dinner with him again. Jareth had been overjoyed, and she could have sworn she felt his hand tremble as he held her hand and gave it a light, farewell kiss.

Later today, back in the residential area of the main hall, Sarah had met Clara. Sarah had to admit to herself that she'd been nervous about meeting Clara. She knew how happy Hoggle was because of Clara, and Sarah was afraid that if _she_ didn't like Clara, she'd ruin Hoggle's happiness. She needn't have worried. Sarah took an instant liking to Clara, from the moment Clara rushed forward to grip Sarah's hand warmly in welcome, telling Sarah in a sweet, clear voice that she was so happy to finally meet Sarah.

They'd sat around the table, Hoggle at the head, and Clara and Sarah on either side of him, with small, adorable Gerry beside Sarah. All throughout the meal, Sarah'd tried to focus on the conversation. She'd tried to keep her mind on the present, but she kept getting lost in moments of déjà vu. When Hoggle had helped Clara into her seat, even though she was quite capable of doing so on her own, it was Jareth that Sarah saw, helping Sarah into the chair she'd occupied at their dinners, and Jareth again that she saw, opening every door for her, eager to both be near her and to please her. When Hoggle's hand lingered on Clara's as he passed the bread to her, it was Sarah's own hand that she saw, lingering in Jareth's gloved grasp as he helped her up a bit of uneven terrain. When Clara left the table momentarily to fetch another pitcher of water and Hoggle's eyes followed her every movement, it was Jareth that Sarah saw, watching Sarah with that same, warm_, hungry_ expression. She noticed all the silent physical communication between Hoggle and Clara, and realized that she and Jareth shared that same connection. Between Hoggle and Clara every touch seemed to linger, every glance was forever, every parting an eternity…and Sarah now saw that it was the same between her and Jareth.

At dinner, she had clearly seen before her how two people very much in love acted, and now, back in her rooms, she realized it was the way she and Jareth acted towards each other. What did that mean? They'd only been together for two weeks – they'd only really known each other for two weeks. Two weeks wasn't enough time to fall in love. Right? But it _could_ mean he still had some feelings for her, physically at the very least. The hope it brought forth within Sarah's belly was a fiery glow, until she glanced back at the simple sketches she had made. Looking at them dampened that spring of hope, reminding her of what she had planned for tomorrow. _If_ she and Jareth were on the path to something more than friendship, and she wouldn't dare to say it aloud even if she was certain of it, it made what she was going to do tomorrow an even deeper betrayal of Jareth's trust, and as she blew out her candle and crawled into bed, Sarah prayed that Jareth would forgive her for it.

------

_Author's addenda: I know it was a confusing format, but I just wanted to experiment a bit. If you didn't like it, don't worry, it's probably not going to happen again. I would be delighted if you would review and tell me what you think…about anything, anything at all within the chapter or the story as a whole. Or you could just answer my completely random question below:_

_Why do you like Labyrinth? _


	16. Chapter 16

_Author's note: Standard disclaimer applies...please review!_

Jareth stirred in his sleep, beginning to awaken. He kept his eyes closed, reluctant to leave his dream so soon. He was in the box garden of before, save that now, it was green and vibrant. The hedges were verdant, trimmed into fanciful and flawless shapes. Jareth sat on a cushioned stone bench, watching Sarah. She was wearing a loose, flowing, silky green dress that brought out the color of her eyes. She was standing next to a shrub full of large, pink blossoms. Jareth caught her gaze, and padded the bench beside him in invitation. Sarah smiled at him, plucked one of the rosy blossoms, and seated herself beside him. She presented Jareth with the flower and gave him a light kiss as he took the blossom from her hand. Jareth held her fast as she made to pull away, pulling her towards him for another, deeper kiss. When they broke apart, Jareth tucked the blossom above Sarah's left ear, its pink tones perfectly matching the healthy, rosy blush in Sarah's cheeks.

Jareth wrapped his arm around Sarah's shoulders, delighting in the feel of her so close beside him. Sarah rested her head on his shoulder, her breath tickling his neck. Suddenly she started, and before Jareth could ask her what was the matter she grabbed his free hand and placed it over her rounded belly. Jareth held his breath, waiting, and then he felt it: a light kick, a steady flutter. Their child was alive and kicking. Jareth looked at Sarah in amazement, and saw the delight suffusing her features, the perfect joy reflected in her smile. No words were needed between them. He felt his face begin to mirror the happiness in hers, and leaned down, resting his head on her stomach. Sarah leaned back and placed her hand on the back of his neck, her fingers toying with his hair, the ring on her third finger cool on Jareth's skin. Jareth felt their child kick again, seeing in his mind a playful daughter, an active son. He wrapped his arms around his wife and the precious burden she carried. Sarah gave a contented sigh and Jareth looked up to see the love shining from her eyes, and he knew that at this moment, his life was perfect. Jareth's heart was full; in his arms, he held everything that mattered to him in the entire universe, and the joy of it was such that he felt he might burst with it.

Jareth held her closer, and belatedly realized that he was awake, and it was a pillow he held in his arms and not his dream-Sarah. Jareth pushed the pillow away and ran a hand over his face. That was the same dream he'd had in the Labyrinth a week ago, when he'd fallen asleep in the box garden, and he didn't need to look very deeply to know what it meant. In that dream, Sarah had loved him, as much as he loved her now. In that dream, he'd had everything his heart desired, and more. Jareth sat up, letting the sheets pool around his waist. Through the window, he could just see the merest hint of the coming dawn. He still had time; he could lay himself back down and return to that dream, his dream-Sarah was waiting just on the other side of his closed eyelids…

With one quick motion, Jareth threw off the covers and sprang out of bed. He let the cold stone floor assault his bare feet, bringing him fully awake. Jareth knew the danger of letting a dream rule one's life, letting it consume one's every thought and action, until everything was lost and nothing remained, save that dream. Oh, Jareth knew it all too well. _No_, he thought. _We won't go down that road again. I lost Somnaria that way. I will not repeat my mistakes._ He walked into the bathroom, letting the monotony of his morning ablutions drive the hard truth into him: it had been only a dream. This was reality, and in reality, Sarah was not his wife. In reality, Sarah was not carrying their child. In reality, Sarah did not love him.

Jareth splashed his face with a stream of icy water, letting the chilling droplets trickle down his pale skin. He met his eyes in the mirror, and analyzed the face Sarah saw every day. It wasn't a bad-looking face, Jareth observed. On the contrary, there had been a time in Jareth's life when he'd thought that he looked quite handsome indeed. And he would have had to have been blind to not notice how Sarah took notice of his looks. Jareth's lips quirked into a sideways smile; 'took notice' was an understatement. Several times, when he'd arrived to escort Sarah the ten feet to their dinner, she'd taken one look at him and never looked away, temporarily speechless. Of course, she'd had a similar effect on him, but Jareth was more adept than Sarah at hiding his reactions. Jareth dried his face, allowing himself another moment to dwell on the thought of Sarah finding him attractive, before reminding himself that _physical attraction is only a start. If anything is to come of this, anything at all, then there's got to be more to it than physical attraction. _

But then again, there was.

She liked his company, Jareth knew. Sarah liked talking to him, but Jareth mainly attributed that to her lack of conversational partners in this kingdom rather than a preference for his dialogue. Sarah thought he was a good king, and a good friend. _Friend_, Jareth reminded himself. _Friend. Not partner, not lover, not husband. Friend. _Jareth felt a pang somewhere in the region of his heart every time he remembered that. He was rational enough to realize that 'friend' was likely the highest position he could attain in Sarah's affections, but that didn't stop his heart from wanting more. He had tried to be so careful around her. He'd tried to keep his heart closely guarded, hidden away so Sarah couldn't see it and read her name on its pages, written a thousand times over with his every heartbeat. He'd tried so hard to harden his affections. But he was powerless over Sarah. Jareth couldn't keep her out of his heart; he hadn't had a chance. He'd tried so hard to get over her when she'd refused him almost a year ago, but she'd found her way back into his heart the moment she returned Underground; she'd never really left.

Jareth still loved her, the way he'd loved her for more years than he cared to remember, and it filled him with despair. How could she ever return his affections? How could he even hope that she could come to love him as much as he loved her? How would he bear it when she returned to the Aboveground after they fixed the Labyrinth? How could he bear another parting from her? His heart had been broken when she'd refused him before; it'd been halfway broken when she'd wished away her brother. He'd loved her from afar for years, watching her grow, seeing the immortal soul he'd first encountered a thousand years ago manifest itself in the young woman Sarah had been. But she'd been too young. Jareth had known that at best, he'd only get one chance at her love, once chance for his happiness. And the moment the fifteen-year-old Sarah had uttered those words, wishing away her brother, summoning Jareth to her, he had known deep down that it was too late for him. He wouldn't get the chance to court her again, and then, he'd been stuck playing the evil goblin king to her defiant-damsel act. At her age, with her mindset, she'd never have accepted him, not in a thousand years.

But now, her presence was almost cruel; a constant, physical reminder that he had had his chance at her heart. He'd had his chance, and he'd blown it. One didn't get second chances, not with something as fragile as love. Sarah would never be his; she would never love him. She was so near to him, even touching at times and yet her heart was miles off, impenetrable to his love. Sometimes Jareth deluded himself into thinking that she cared for him. Sometimes he'd catch her staring at him, examining him so closely as if she could see his soul. Other times, he'd feel her reluctance to remove her hand from his grasp, as if she enjoyed the feel of him, as if she yearned for his touch. Jareth's heart would soar in those moments, buffeted by the winds of reckless hope. But then, all too soon, his reason would return with absolute rationality and choke that hope right out of him.

Still, Jareth tried to enjoy himself with Sarah. He knew he'd be heartbroken one way or the other when she left, and it wouldn't make a bit of difference whether he had shared one laugh with her, or a hundred laughs. She didn't know what she did to him, and perhaps that might save him this time. When she returned to the Aboveground, she'd have no idea she'd broken his heart all over again, and that might be just enough for Jareth to survive on.

But as long as he didn't think about that, as long as he forgot that she wouldn't be staying for good, Jareth was reasonably happy. But he couldn't help but feel that every time he basked in Sarah's smile, and that every time he inhaled her sweet scent, he was betraying his kingdom. Sarah was here only to help him fix the Labyrinth. Every minute that she was here meant that the Labyrinth was still a danger, and that his kingdom and his subjects were still in peril. He should be looking forward to the day she left, because that would mean that everything in his kingdom was right again. His subjects could return to their homes, their lives would resume, and all thoughts of despair and of the bleak future would disappear.

But Jareth wanted Sarah to stay. He wanted to be near her, to hear her, and to see her every day, even if she never came to see him as anything more than a friend. He could drag her stay out and make it so they never fixed the Labyrinth; that was within his power. But would it be worth the cost? Would having her by his side, even without her love, be worth condemning his kingdom? Would it be worth sentencing his citizens to almost certain death when their food reserves were depleted in a month's, or two month's time?

How could he choose? If he thought rationally, the answer was easy. Logically, he should choose his kingdom. It was his responsibility. It was his duty. It would be selfish and wrong to do otherwise. But his heart said to do otherwise. What he wanted, when he really thought about it, was Sarah. She was vital to his happiness. The sun didn't rise in the morning if Sarah wasn't near to share it with him. When Jareth was with Sarah, he was no longer the Goblin King. When Jareth was with Sarah, he was just Jareth, a fae besotted with a mortal woman. To choose her, to forgo his duties as goblin king, was irrational, to say the least. But there was no arguing with his heart. Why couldn't he have them both? Why was the pursuit of one exclusive of the other? Why did he have to choose between his heart and his duty? _It's not fair!_

Half an hour later, Jareth emerged from his bathroom, fully dressed and groomed, his spine straight and his posture regal. Today, he wouldn't be seeing Sarah, not until tonight, when they had dinner together once more. Until then, he'd do his best to not think about her. Thinking about her brought him joy one minute, and despair the next. One moment he was certain that she could never love him, and the next, he was dreaming of spending the rest of his life with her. It was too much for him. He'd made the cycle between utter despair and utter, foolish hope too many times this morning, to say nothing of the past few weeks. Whatever he decided, whatever he chose, be it his heart or his kingdom, he still had duties to attend to, and they wouldn't wait for him any longer. Right now, it was time for him to be the Goblin King.

---------------

"Thank you, sire. Business will be much better from now on."

"I'm glad to hear it. Good day to you, Martin. Jane." Jareth touched his fingertips to his brow as he took leave of the Millers, finally finished for the day. It was amazing what sorts of problems and how many disputes could arise in one week, just because so many dwarves and goblins had to live in such close proximity. Take the Millers, for instance, his last meeting of the day. They'd gotten into a squabble with the bakers just a few 'buildings' away in Jareth's foyer, over the price of flour, and it had taken all of Jareth's diplomacy and tact to settle the dispute. He shook his head; being the Goblin King certainly kept him on his toes.

Jareth scanned the bustling crowds of his great hall, looking for one person in particular. He'd surprised himself by not thinking about her all day. At most, she was maybe his every second or third thought, unlike this morning, when she'd been his only thought. But now, he had only one goal: to find Sarah. For one thing, he was hungry. The day was almost over, the sun was preparing to set, and he hadn't eaten all day. He was hungry for food, and he was hungry for Sarah's company. It had been a long, tiring day. Surely he could allow himself the luxury of Sarah's company now. Jareth turned his path and headed outside. If he had to guess, he'd say she was where she'd gone every day for the past week after she and he returned from the Labyrinth: she was in the city, playing with the children.

Sarah'd made a point of spending a little time with them each day. She'd seen them through different eyes when he'd told her how the goblin-children came to be, compassion mingling with pity in her gaze. He could see how every time she held one of those children, she envisioned the life they didn't remember. He too had struggled with that sort of double vision, but he'd learned to not let it bother him. He'd told her firmly that night that these children were happy here, their sufferings were forgotten, and it was best to remember that and let them be.

Jareth walked through empty the streets of the goblin city, observing by the lightness of the sky how nice a day it had been, comparatively speaking. It was certainly quite a change from the dull, gloomy atmosphere of a month ago. Those changes Sarah'd noticed in the Labyrinth – the small signs of returning life – they seemed to be expanding, encompassing the very atmosphere itself. Perhaps they would be near a solution soon, and then Sarah would go home. At the thought of Sarah's time here having a too-rapidly approaching end, Jareth quickened his pace. He wouldn't magick himself to her side – he wasn't that desperate, yet. But he was anxious to see her, and to spend as much time with her as possible.

As he rounded a bend in the road, Jareth could hear Sir Didymus weaving his story-tale magic. A few steps further and they came into view: Sir Didymus seated high on a wall, facing his twenty-odd eager listeners, and Ludo in the back, acting as a sort of climbing-toy for several other children. Jareth felt a sharp sense of sudden panic: Sarah wasn't there! No one had noticed Jareth yet, and he stepped back to stay out of sight. Hoggle wasn't there either. _Perhaps she's with Hoggle at Clara's_, Jareth thought, trying to remain rational. That had to be it; everything was fine. Sarah wasn't missing again. She was just at Clara's.

Jareth turned back quietly and went back to his foyer, over to the residential area. Several families milled about, preparing food and tables for the evening meal. Jareth found Clara sitting in quiet conversation with Hoggle, who was smoking a pipe and busy mending some trinket. Jareth observed that the table they sat at looked as if it were holding all of Clara's and her son's possessions. It also became apparent that all those possessions had had a rather thorough and lengthy cleaning, polishing, and repairing. Hoggle must have been at it all day. _If he's been busy all day with Clara, what then has Sarah been up to?_ Jareth took a breath and kept his voice neutrally bright, not wanting to convey any of the rising dread and panic he felt.

"Good Evening, Hogbrain! Clara."

Clara started at his voice, the lazy gaze she'd had trained on Hoggle immediately focusing to take in Jareth. Hoggle grunted in reply, not bothering to pause in his work. Clara stood up and greeted Jareth, "Good evening, your majesty. It's a pleasure to see you. To what do we owe the honor of your presence?"

"Thank you, Clara. I was on my way to find Sarah, and I wondered if either of you had seen her about."

Hoggle put down the newly repaired necklace, and puffed deeply on his pipe before addressing Jareth. "She said she was going to spend the day with you, see what it was you got up to." Hoggle noted the look of shock on Jareth's face, and guessed, "Little lady give you the slip, eh?"

Jareth couldn't breath. He struggled to maintain his composure, but all he could think was that Sarah had left him. Where she was wasn't as important as the fact that she was gone. Clara took pity immediately.

"Stop it, Hoggle. Don't listen to him, your majesty. Sarah was ill this morning, and Hoggle and I put her to bed at once, and told her to rest for the day."

Jareth tried not to show how relieved he was that she wasn't gone, but then immediately began to worry about Sarah being sick. _The chill of the nights here; maybe it's finally gotten to her and she's succumbed to a cold. Or maybe she's been exerting herself too much of late. Maybe we should rest more during the day. I should go visit her. Would she want to see me? Perhaps I should fetch the healer…_

Clara interrupted Jareth's train of thought with, "Sarah asked us to tell you that she'd enjoy it if you stopped in and visited her once you were free for the day." The smile on Clara's face was all too-knowing, as was the disgruntled grimace on Hoggle's face.

Jareth excused himself as politely and as quickly as possible and made his way out of the foyer at a dignified pace. Once he was out of sight, he magicked himself to Sarah's door, and knocked. There was no answer. Jareth knocked again, straining his ears to hear even the faintest response. Nothing. _She's probably sleeping; I should come back later_, he told himself. _But she said she wanted me to visit her._ That decided Jareth. Quietly, he turned the doorknob, and slowly Sarah's room came into view. The first thing Jareth noticed was the light coming in through Sarah's windows. The setting sun was shining brightly on Sarah's bed, Sarah's unmade, empty bed.

Jareth stepped inside, calling her name. Still, there was no answer. Looking around, Jareth saw that the room was empty: Sarah wasn't here. _Where could she be!?_ The alarm and dread of before resurfaced, and he turned to go and search for her. As he turned on the spot, a spare bit of stationary on Sarah's desk caught his eye. Walking over to her desk, Jareth picked up the paper and looked at the drawing she'd made. He stayed frozen in that position, his eyes tracing the lines she'd drawn, an expression of horror stealing over his face. _It's a map, _he realized. _A map. She made a map of the Labyrinth. _

Jareth noticed all of the marked out areas, and realized it was a rough draft. That meant Sarah had made another draft, a better one. One that would lead her exactly to where he didn't want her to go. One that she had with her now, this very moment, as she made her way to the darkness. _The darkness. Oh, Sarah, how could you!?_

Jareth crumpled up the drawing and threw it away with a cry. He covered the distance to her balcony in three quick strides and threw open the doors. Two bounding steps later and he was standing on the railing, looking out over his Labyrinth, trying to figure out just where she was on her path. Eyeing the position of the sun, Jareth realized that she'd been out there all day. _If she's not on her way back by now, then she's still in the darkness, _he realized with mounting terror. The Labyrinth stared back, taunting him with its giant size, daring him to do his worst. Jareth accepted the challenge, and flung himself from the balcony, transforming into owl-Jareth and soaring to the darkness in the east.

If she was in the Labyrinth, on her way back, she should be fine. But if she was still in the darkness…Jareth wasn't going to lose her to the darkness. He would not allow it. He pumped his wings harder, and faster, penetrating the dark and gloomy atmosphere of the darkness in record time. Once there, he forced himself to fly in patient, evenly spaced circles, examining every scrap of darkness-covered ground for her familiar form. All the while terror and panic fueled his heart and his thoughts. _How could she do this? How could she go to the darkness, alone?! She knows how dangerous it is, she knows it has claimed several lives already. How could she be so reckless as to put herself in such danger?! _Jareth was so scared that he didn't have time to be angry. The darkness was different from the Labyrinth. When she'd walked off while he was sleeping a week ago, he'd been terrified that something had happened to her, but confident that she was in the Labyrinth somewhere, and that he could find her before something bad happened. But now, she was in the darkness, and that was all together different. Here the very air seemed to radiate a quiet, menacing aura. This place was dangerous.

In the center of the darkness was a lake, a lake that had previously been a popular summer retreat for the citizens of the Labyrinth. The rickety wooden dock Jareth now saw from his aerial perspective had once been a sturdy, beautiful platform that goblin and dwarf children had exuberantly bounded from each summer in search of a haven in the cool, blue waters. Not so anymore. Those formerly crystalline, azure waters stared up at him, black, murky, and bottomless. Jareth's heart gave a start: Sarah was on the shore of the lake, walking towards the dock. She was alive, she was fine, and she had to be stopped before she set foot on that unstable dock and fell into those black waters.

Owl-Jareth pulled his wings in close to his body, feeling the chilly air rush past him as he dove quickly to reach Sarah. The dive lasted an eternity in Jareth's mind but at length he landed and transformed, directly facing the dock. He noticed two things straight away. First, he had no magic. Every scrap of power beyond that of a normal fae was stripped from him, sucked into the darkness. And second, Sarah was nowhere to be seen.

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_Author's addendum: A bit of a cliffhanger...think you can wait a week to find out what happens next? Please review and I might update sooner..._


	17. Chapter 17

_Author's Note: Thanks for reviewing! All of you made my day. Now read this and tell me what you think!_

Jareth spun in a quick circle, looking for any sign of Sarah. He found her foot prints without difficulty, and noted with a tremor of fear that they led right up to the dock. Jareth followed them, and looked down that rickety platform. _Stay calm_, he thought. _You're no good to Sarah if you panic. Now, if she's not on the dock, then she must be in the water. But she wouldn't have gone in the water, would she? _Jareth peered forward, as far as his keen eyes could see, and then he spotted her. Sarah's brunette head was bobbing up and down in the water as she swam _away from the dock!_

_What is she doing?!_ The sight of her spurred Jareth into action. He sprang forward and tried to run on the dock, but the wood creaked and swayed ominously; he wouldn't be able to move quickly. Jareth choked out an expletive before calling, "Sarah!" He called again, cupping his hands around his mouth, but still she did not hear him. Jareth made his way forward, slower this time, carefully picking his footing, cursing the wooden planks and the trees from whence they came. It became a pattern: he looked down and found a semi-sturdy spot to place his foot, then he looked up to see where Sarah was, and then he looked down to find another safe foot-hold, and then he looked up again to find Sarah. Jareth could see her swimming steadily away, towards the center of the lake, and he again cursed the pier beneath him for slowing his progress.

All of a sudden, Sarah stopped swimming. Jareth saw her tread water, and spin in place several times, as if she had lost something and was frantically trying to find it. She opened her mouth several times and called out something, but Jareth couldn't hear what it was she said. He tried calling her again, waving his arms in the air to get her attention, but she neither saw nor heard him. After a few minutes of treading water, Jareth saw her turn around, and swim back to the dock. He moved forward once more, determined to reach her and to get her out of that black water.

When she was a few meters from the dock, Jareth saw her head disappear under the murky water. He thought it might have been deliberate, some sort of swimming stroke…

Sarah kicked her legs frantically, trying to dislodge the hand that had pulled her under, and now firmly held her ankle. She kicked again, her lungs beginning to burn. _One more time, Sarah. You can get free, the dock's right there…_She gathered her strength and gave a final kick and felt the hand let go of her ankle. She kicked her way upwards, and once she broke the surface, she screamed, letting the fear and panic of a moment ago out.

Jareth felt her scream travel down every bone in his spine, jolting him recklessly forward. As he made his tottering way towards her, Sarah began to swim once more. She made smooth, even strokes, and didn't appear to be in any more distress. Then she screamed again, but this time her cry was interrupted as she disappeared under the water once more, replaced by the sound of ominous silence and Jareth's heartbeat. "Sarah!!" Jareth screamed. He sprinted forward, not caring for the splintering wood beneath his feet, not hearing the dock creak and crack beneath him. His only thought was to get to Sarah. If he could only get to her, he'd have her safe…

Sarah was held fast by that same hand, and others just like it. Adrenaline coursed through her as she kicked and bucked and fought to keep the hands away. They were _everywhere_. On her ankles, on her legs, her thighs, her waist, her wrists, her arms…they held her fast, their firm, bruising grips making all movement impossible. Down they pulled her, down, down, down. She felt the hands hold her, so tightly that she'd have bruises of the deepest, darkest blue to say nothing of broken bones if they squeezed any harder. Still other hands roughly caressed her, sliding over her legs, and her stomach, ripping the fabric away. Sarah could feel the rough, grimy hands touch the soft skin of her belly, and she screamed, her cry escaping as a series of life-containing bubbles. Sarah struggled violently, but then the hands got a hold of her hair, and pulled her head down, exposing her neck, which one particularly strong hand took it upon itself to squeeze. Sarah kicked and turned and shoved, all to no avail. Slowly losing consciousness from lack of air and pain, Sarah's screams became internal. All thought of not panicking and remaining calm was gone. All that was left was a constant, hysterical mantra:_Let me go – Let me go – Let me go!!_ Sarah could feel her vision narrowing, the dim light of the surface becoming dimmer and dimmer, and she knew she was done for. As her mind became hazier and hazier, the hands miraculously released her, all of them, and she floated dreamily upwards. When she reached the surface, her first breath of oxygen was like the breath of life. It was the spark she needed; she snapped out of the dreamy haze and frantically splashed in the water, reaching upwards for the dock that was just overhead.

Jareth saw Sarah surface right beside the dock where he stood. She didn't see him as she found a handhold on the dock and slowly began to pull herself out of the water. He instantly reached down to help her. The second his hand touched her skin, Sarah screamed and let go of the dock, falling back into the water with large splash. "_Sarah!_" Jareth screamed her name and laid himself flat on the dock. He stretched his arm as far down as possible, waving it in front of her face as she resurfaced. "Sarah! It's me, Jareth! Take my hand!" She didn't move for a moment, as if she still hadn't seen him, and then she came to herself and took his hand, letting him haul her out of the water.

Jareth let her go the moment she was completely out of the water and on the dock. She lay flat on her belly, unmoving save for the heaving of her ribs as she tried to catch her breath. Jareth allowed her one moment to recover herself, noting in that moment that she was naked from the waist up save for her sodden hair and her flesh-colored bra. But he couldn't do anything about that now; they had to get out of there. Jareth wasn't going to trust the lake or the dock for one moment longer. He knelt down and helped Sarah to her feet wordlessly, draping one of her arms across his neck, while his arm went round her waist. When she was upright, he moved them forward. She leaned heavily upon him at first, and he could feel her body shaking, with weakness, shock, or just cold, he didn't know. But he couldn't stop. They had to leave this place. Whatever had had her had let her go for now, and Jareth could feel a difference in the air, almost an assurance that they were free to go for now, but that might change in a few minutes. They had to get off this dock _now_. They had to get out of the darkness. He had to get her to safety.

After an hour of stumbling, hurried, and relentless travel, they were out of the darkness, but it was becoming harder and harder to tell. The sun had finally set, and only a few rays reached them from beyond the horizon, illuminating the path before them. Still, Jareth pushed them onwards and away from the darkness. Sarah hadn't said anything; all her thoughts were focused on keeping up with Jareth's grueling pace. She leaned on Jareth more and more, letting him support her when her body couldn't, and still they kept going. It wasn't until almost all of the light was gone that Jareth stopped. Despite the chill of the night Jareth was sweating, his body both warming and supporting Sarah.

The path they had taken had led them deep into a forested area, and Jareth found a fallen tree upon which to place Sarah. Sarah sank gratefully onto the natural seat, crossing her arms tightly in front of her, trying to retain the heat of Jareth's body. Jareth used his keen vision to search for dry wood: Sarah was still soaked through, and the temperature was rapidly dropping. Luckily the search was fruitful; there were plenty of spare limbs about, perfectly sized for easy carrying. Jareth made several trips, depositing the armfuls of lumber into a pile a few feet away from where Sarah sat, shivering and quiet. Within moments, he had enough timber for a modest fire, and he set about lighting it. The second they had left the darkness, Jareth had felt a small part of his magic return to him, and he used this magic now to light a small piece of kindling, which he placed near some larger kindling, watching it catch. Soon, yellow, orange, and red flames licked at the carefully placed pile of branches, and Jareth turned to face Sarah.

She was wrapped in on herself, no doubt freezing. Jareth shed his black overcoat quickly, and then pulled the white, ruffled shirt he was wearing underneath out of his pants, and over his head. He handed the garment to Sarah, and she took it quietly. Jareth put his overcoat back on, the chill of the air raising goose pimples on his heated flesh.

Sarah slowly put on his shirt, reveling in the warmth it brought her. It fell to just below her mid-thigh, and Sarah decided to get out of her wet jeans. She stood slowly, every movement painful, and stepped away from Jareth, retreating into the secrecy of night momentarily to shed her soaked jeans. When she returned, she laid the pants over the log she had been sitting on, close to the fire so that they'd dry. Jareth was standing by the fire, his face an impenetrable mask. Like Sarah, he'd said nothing since he'd gotten her out of that lake. Now Sarah was afraid to break the silence. She came to stand next to him, facing him, just a few feet away. It was Jareth who spoke first.

"So this is why you told Clara to tell me to visit you."

He hadn't looked away from the fire while he spoke, but Sarah could sense the restraint he was placing upon himself.

"Yes," she said, her voice a painful croak. She ignored the pain and continued, "You came for me before. I knew you'd come again. I was counting on it, in case something happened…"

"In case something like…oh…I don't know…something like you going off into the darkness on your own happened? Was that it?" He still wouldn't look at her.

"Yes," Sarah said, her voice very small.

"Why, Sarah? Why did you do it?" He hadn't raised his voice; indeed, his tone was almost flat, but Sarah felt as if he'd yelled at her all the same.

"I had to know what we were up against. I had to know what the darkness was."

"And what have you learned, Sarah?"

Sarah took a deep breath. "To listen to you." Jareth finally looked at her, wanting to hear the rest of her statement. "You told me not to go. You made me promise. I broke my promise; I betrayed your trust in me. And the only thing that's changed is that I've scared you, worse than before. I'm sorry Jareth. I don't know what I can do to make it right, to make you trust me again, or if that's even possible, but I am sorry."

Jareth listened to her apology, wanting to rail at her, wanting to _make_ her know just how much she had terrified him, wanting her to know some part of the torture he'd endured not knowing what was happening to her. What kind of idiocy had possessed her to jump into that water? Didn't she have enough sense to suspect that the murky water in the dark sector of the Labyrinth spelled danger as clearly as possible? He'd warned her. He'd told her it was dangerous. And yet she had still gone. And now look at her! But then he looked at Sarah, and met her eyes, her lovely, earnest eyes. He couldn't do it. The anger in him died. He just couldn't do it; he didn't have the heart. Jareth saw the bruises liberally marring her flesh, the welts and scratches on her skin, and all the hurt he felt towards her evaporated, replaced by compassion. She was waiting for his answer, her head up tall and her spine straight, although Jareth could see her body shivering with the effort involved. He relented.

"Just don't do it again, Sarah. Promise me. I can't do this again. I won't be able to bear it. Promise me."

Sarah nodded, relieved. "I promise, Jareth." She held his gaze, meeting his eyes, and felt his unspoken forgiveness.

Jareth nodded, accepting her promise, and then asked, "Are you all right?"

Sarah smiled, finding it ironic that he should ask her such a visually obvious question. She watched him shake his head, understanding his intent to express concern as well as his distaste with the blunt way he'd asked. "I'm fine," she said. He gave her a skeptical look, and she continued. "Yes, I'm a bit the worse for wear, but I'm alive, aren't I? That's a start." Her voice gained strength as she spoke, Jareth was pleased to note.

She walked closer to the fire, and sat down gingerly, her back to one of the fallen logs, Jareth's shirt tucked modestly about her thighs. She padded the ground next to her in invitation, and he didn't need telling twice. He seated himself next to her, careful not to sit too close, but still wanting to be near her. Sarah stretched her hands out towards the fire, chafing them together to warm them. Jareth watched her, noting with concern the dark bruises marring her flesh; _what had happened to her?_

"Please tell me what happened, Sarah."

Sarah raised a hand to rub her throat delicately. "I left this morning after meeting Clara and Hoggle. They had no idea of my intentions. I used a map that I'd made to get to the darkness, and reached it a few hours after midday. The moment I stepped into it, I could feel a difference. Aside from it being literally dark, there is a darkness there that goes beyond the physical. It's more of a lurking danger, and a menacing malevolence; a silent, hidden cocktail of fear, loathing, and evil, one you can't see, but you can feel it. The very air is alive with it."

Jareth nodded at her description; that was how he'd felt about the darkness too. "Well said, Sarah."

"There was nothing in the darkness, save for the remnants of the Labyrinth that was there before it. It was almost as if the darkness was eating away at the Labyrinth. Anyway, I found that lake and went out onto the pier. I felt drawn out there, like something was calling me, like I was needed. So I went. And the rest you know."

Jareth swallowed, and then continued his interrogation. "Now, what possessed you to get into that water?"

"There was a child. A dwarf child, floating on a piece of jetsam out in the water. She was crying, and called for help. I had to help her, so I jumped into the water and swam towards her. All the time, I talked to her, trying to calm her down. I asked her name and how old she was and what her favorite things were. When I got to her, she just vanished. I looked all around, but I didn't see her. So I swam back to the dock. Just before I got there, something grabbed my ankle. It grabbed again and pulled me under, and there were hands every where, like in the chamber that leads to the oubliette. They grabbed me, and wouldn't let go. They did this to me," she held her arms out, indicating the bruises and welts. "I don't know what made them let go. But I was free and then you were there." She finished speaking, rubbing her throat gingerly. It must have been paining her as her voice had gone hoarse as she finished.

Jareth thought for a moment, coming to terms with the information she had told him. _ Hands? In the lake? Why? It didn't make sense. And what of the child Sarah saw – it must have been some sort of lure, a trap, a …oh, surely not…no…_ "Sarah," Jareth asked, trying for calm, "you said you asked the child her name. What was it?" Jareth held his breath, waiting for her response, dreading what it might be.

Sarah furrowed her brows, and then answered, "Adonna. She said her name was Adonna." The second she had said it, Sarah's mouth fell open. "Jareth, that's the name of the child that disappeared into the darkness!" Jareth nodded silently, unwilling to add anything else. They sat in silence, staring at the fire, until Sarah spoke, "It was never her, was it? It was just an illusion, a trap, to lure me into that water. Jareth, do you realize what that means?"

He finished her thought, "It means the darkness is sentient. And that makes it all the more dangerous." Once more they lapsed into a thoughtful silence. After a few minutes, Sarah spoke again.

"Jareth."

"Hmmm?"

"If it is so dangerous, why did it let me go? Did you do anything? Did you use your magic to make it?"

"I didn't. I couldn't. I didn't have any in the darkness. I barely have any as it is now, which is why we have to spend the night out here in the cold, rather than in the castle. I don't know why they let you go. I can't explain it. But I'm glad they did."

Sarah looked to Jareth, and saw the helplessness in his eyes, and relented. "Forget about it. We'll talk about it tomorrow. And it's not so bad out here. It's actually sort of cozy." She relaxed against the log, stretching her legs and arms out towards the fire. The soles of her feet were warm, as were her hands, but the rest of her, the part of her that was furthest from the fire, was still practically frigid.

Jareth mirrored her actions, feeling a deep exhaustion descend upon him. He held up a gloved hand to mask a yawn and then he looked at Sarah, taking full stock of her injuries. Not being able to help himself, Jareth gently took Sarah's arm in his hand. He rubbed his hand over a particularly dark bruise circling her wrist, his touch feather-soft. Sarah was surprised by his actions, but found his touch soothing. She watched him run his hand down her arms, entranced by his motions. She looked to Jareth's face, and saw the concern and care written in his eyes, and something else…perhaps desire? Sarah leaned into his touch, catching his hand as it caressed her fingers, holding his hand within her own. They stayed like that, both watching the play of their fingers, mesmerized by the sight and by the sensations. Sarah's gaze shifted from their linked hands to Jareth's lips, the firelight and her own desire making her bold. _Do it_, her mind said_. It's now or never, girl, just lean forward and kiss him…_ Just then, the fire gave a great pop, startling them both. Jareth dropped Sarah's hand immediately and crossed his arms over his chest.

He spoke quickly, changing the subject. "So, we've spent plenty of time talking about me and my life. Tell me something about you. What did you do after you graduated college? Jareth wasn't looking at her; Sarah couldn't see his eyes anymore, to see if she'd seen what she thought she had. _Maybe it was just the firelight reflected in his eyes, and nothing else. Maybe. _

Sarah dismissed the thought from her mind, and answered him. "I suppose we have talked about you a lot. Let's see; what did I do after I graduated college? I applied to join the Peace Corps just before I graduated, and then by the time I graduated, I had been accepted and assigned a location." Sarah saw Jareth's confused look, and elaborated. "The Peace Corps is a large, volunteer organization all over the world Aboveground. I guess you could say that it's sort of like the Army in that when you are accepted, you have to commit two years of your life to serving them right away. My parents – my father and Karen, weren't pleased with my decision to join the Peace Corps. But, I didn't have any job offers – there aren't many jobs that require an education in diplomacy and those that do generally involve running a country. But since I studied Spanish – the Spanish language – I went to Paraguay, a smallish country in South America. I worked mainly with children, teaching them English and some math."

"That explains why you are so good with the children here."

"Yes, I suppose it does." Sarah hid her smile, pleased that he had noticed something she was good at. She was about to continue when Sarah saw Jareth try to stifle a yawn. She looked at him, really looked at his face, and saw how exhausted he was. "Why don't you lie down, Jareth, and try to sleep while I tell you all about it." Sarah looked around for something that Jareth could use as a pillow.

Jareth started to protest, "I'm fine, Sarah, really. Perhaps you should rest…"

"No," she said quickly. "I'm the reason you're stuck out here, and I'm the reason you're exhausted." Sarah tried for a commanding, matronly tone. "You're going to rest, Jareth. Now lie down."

He smiled. "Where would you suggest I lie down?"

"Lie facing the fire; you can use my lap as a pillow."

Jareth wasn't sure he'd heard her correctly. "I'm sorry…would you repeat that, Sarah?"

"What?" She stared at him, not understanding the problem. "I said you can use my lap as a pillow. It's the softest thing out here; why not? One of us should be comfortable at least."

Jareth cast a cursory gaze down to her lap, noting the dark bruises. "I can't. I'm afraid I'll hurt you," he said, his tone utterly serious.

Sarah met his eyes, her strong gaze practically piercing, assessing him. Apparently she reached a decision, and she quietly told him, "You could never hurt me, Jareth."

Jareth didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything at all. He simply slid away from the log and laid himself down perpendicular to Sarah, his head resting on her lap. She stretched her legs out and leaned back to accommodate him. Having him so near, his head a warm weight in her lap, his hair tickling the skin of her legs…it was surreal, to say the least, in Sarah's opinion.

"All right, I'm resting. Now tell me about Paraguay."

"How can you rest with your eyes open, Jareth?"

He wanted to ask her how he was supposed to rest with her so near to him, the flesh of her thighs pillowing his head, but he stifled another yawn instead, and obeyed.

When his eyes were shut, Sarah began to speak. She told him about the shock of immersing herself completely in a non-English culture. "I'd studied Spanish in school, and I thought I understood it well enough. Then I arrived and the people of the village where I was stationed just spoke so quickly and so fluently – I mean of course they were fluent, but they were far more fluent than I was – it was overwhelming. I missed my family, a lot. The new people, the foreign language, the unfamiliar surroundings – all those factors combined caused me to almost quit after my first week. But I didn't. I just told myself that I could do it. Other people had done it; why not me? So I stayed. And gradually, the people became my friends, the land became familiar, and the language became natural. I grew to love it, all of it."

Sarah paused in her narrative, looking down at Jareth. With his eyes already shut, it was hard to tell if he was asleep or not. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, and Sarah was pleased, for no reason in particular, to note that he didn't snore. "Jareth?" She called softly.

"Hmmm?" His response was sleepy. Not much longer then; truth be told, she was exhausted as well.

"Nothing. Now where was I? Oh, yes. I came to love it there; it became my home away from home. Not right away – it must have been six months before I really felt like I belonged there. Not like here. Here I felt like … I don't know…I guess it was like coming home. Like the Labyrinth was – is – my home. Funny, I suppose." _Why is that?_ Sarah wondered. _I've been here for just a few weeks, and already this place is home. What am I going to do when I have to leave? Maybe he'll let me stay if I beg him. Maybe he'll ask me to stay…? Don't get your hopes up on that one, _said the voice of reason in Sarah's mind. She looked back down at Jareth. He'd not moved at all while she'd had her internal monologue. Perhaps he was asleep now.

"Jareth?" She whispered. He didn't stir. "Jareth?" Sarah said again, this time a bit louder. Still, he didn't move. Sarah crossed her arms over her chest, pulling the collar of Jareth's shirt to her nose, inhaling the delicious, masculine scent of him. She caught a glimpse of her bra. _Why did I have to choose this plain thing to wear the day he finally sees me in my underwear? Why couldn't I have worn something sexy and beautiful? _She shook her head, and looked back down at Jareth. Sarah finally felt that it was safe enough to do something she'd itched to do for as long as she could remember. Raising one hand ever so slowly, she softly ran her hands through his hair, tentatively at first, but soon she was freely running her hands through the wild strands.

Jareth wasn't asleep. It had taken all of his self-control not to move the second he felt her touch. He held himself still, almost afraid to breathe, afraid to move an inch lest she stop her sweet torture. Did she know what her touch wrought on him, how he'd longed for it with every fiber of his being? With her ever so gentle touch, Jareth could imagine that they were two lovers, on a nighttime stroll through the woods. Her touch was so tender, so loving, that it brought tears to Jareth's closed eyes. He held them in, unwilling to let the sight of them ruin this sweet torture. He reveled in her caress, and yet he also despaired at it. And still, he did not move.

Sarah was surprised to find his hair so soft; the wild spikes should have been stiff and hard to her touch. How else could he have managed that high, untamed coiffure? Perhaps he kept his hair so alive with magic... Sarah's fingers combed through his silky mane, luxuriating in the feel of his hair on her skin. Suddenly déjà vu struck: Sarah recalled touching his hair before, running her hands through the pale, golden locks. She stopped for a moment, and raised her hand to better see it in the flickering firelight. She could clearly see it as it was now, but with a strange sort of double vision, she saw her hand as it had been when she was younger: smaller, softer, and pudgier. Sarah blinked her eyes to clear the image, and raised a clearly adult hand to stifle a yawn. She rested her head back against the log and felt sleep steal over her, pulling her under. The cold didn't matter anymore. She felt as if she was falling asleep after an eternity of wakefulness, and the second she closed her eyes, she felt herself pulled down a planned path, as if something had been waiting for her to fall asleep, waiting to bring her a dream that she was meant to remember.

Jareth felt Sarah's exploration of his hair cease, and felt her body relax. He sneaked a peak upwards and saw that she had her eyes closed, apparently asleep. He closed his eyes once more, the sight of Sarah peacefully sleeping more soporific than he could have ever expected. He felt sleep stealing him away, like a door being unlocked in his mind, and once opened, he remembered the first time he had ever met Sarah Williams.

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_Author's Addendum: Please review!!_


	18. Chapter 18

_Author's Note: Standard disclaimer still applies. Please Review!!_

Linda Williams angrily flung open the door to her closet and quickly selected several items of clothing, flinging them into the open suitcase lying on her bed, hangers and all. From the next room, she could hear childish laughter and giggles; _could that girl play with her toys any louder?!_ Linda ignored the sounds coming from her daughter's room, focusing on the matter at hand. Her husband had left for an academic trip, lecturing on whatever it was he studied now-a-days over in some university in Seattle. Linda didn't care. She was leaving. She was leaving her boring, quiet husband and her wild, play-acting daughter and she was going out west. She'd gotten a gig in Hollywood. Nothing too big – just a simple soap commercial – but it could lead to bigger and better things. She could finally become the actress she'd always wanted to be before she'd saddled herself with a family. But she had to leave soon. The gig was in two days; she'd gotten a plane ticket for early the next morning, long before her husband returned tomorrow night. She wasn't going to deal with a messy, emotional scene, not right before her big break. Sarah'd be fine on her own for the day. _God knows that child could keep herself entertained for hours_. When Sarah wasn't busy playing with her toys and making them act out her childish whims, she was rattling away about the most asinine and mundane of things.

Linda threw another pair of pants into the suitcase, and heard the door to her room creak open. She turned and saw her four-year-old daughter Sarah framed in the doorway, teddy bear in hand and a confused, frightened expression on her face. _Dear God! Don't let her get all upset; I can't deal with her when she gets upset!_ Linda continued with her packing, hoping that if she ignored her, Sarah would just go away.

"Mommy?" Came the child's voice from the doorway. Linda didn't answer. "Mommy? Where you going?" Linda looked up from the shirt she was folding, and gave her daughter a scathing look. Sarah recoiled for an instant, not liking it when her mother was mad. "Don't go mommy!" Sarah began sniffling, and her face began to get red. Linda sighed in aggravation and scooped her daughter up, giving her a brief and emotionless hug before depositing Sarah in the bedside chair. As Linda returned to her packing, Sarah began removing items from her suitcase. She was quiet about it, and had half of the bag emptied before Linda knew what she was doing. When Linda figured it out, she let out another irritated sigh and started piling all the clothes back in. Sarah began crying in earnest as she again tried removing the clothes. Her mommy couldn't leave if she didn't have any clothes!

Sarah began howling as Linda pushed her away from the suitcase angrily, yelling "Stop it, Sarah! I'm leaving, and you can't stop me!" She threw the rest of her clothes into the suitcase and began zipping it up with jerky, angry motions. Sarah sat on the ground, stunned. When her mother had finished zipping up the suitcase, Sarah launched into action and attached herself to her mother's leg, a physical impediment. Her mommy wasn't going to leave without her!

Linda's hands became fists as she bit back another cry of frustration. _Would that child never shut up!?_ Sarah was now howling at the top of her lungs, snot and tears running down her red-splotched face. Linda tried walking around the room with Sarah clinging to her leg, throwing her makeup into a bag, and then grabbing her other toiletries. The more Sarah cried and clung to her, the angrier Sarah's mother became. When she could take it no longer, Linda leaned down, grabbed her daughter firmly by the shoulders and forcefully dislodged her. When Sarah began to cry louder, Linda did the one thing she'd never done before: she slapped her daughter.

Not hard, but enough to stun Sarah into temporary silence. Linda resumed her packing as Sarah curled up where she was on the carpet, assuming the fetal position, her hand on the cheek that bore her mommy's handprint. She began crying again, but she was no longer howling; she seemed beyond it now, and the only sounds coming from her were muffled sobs and tears.

Linda looked around the room, and remembered that she'd need her ticket. She went to the night table, stepping over her crying daughter, and picked the ticket up from on top of a stack of books. One of them caught her eye, a small red volume with gold lettering. She'd read it, a little of it, before tossing it aside and letting her husband have it. It wasn't exactly his forte but it sure as hell wasn't hers. Something about goblins and a Labyrinth, and a Goblin King who'd come and take children away. _If only he were real; I could wish this nuisance away to him right now and be free of her!_ Sarah's mother turned back and looked at her daughter, feeling no pity, no stirrings of motherly or even humanly compassion for the distraught child.

_Why not?_ She asked herself. _No, that's silly. _Linda dismissed the notion and turned to put the ticket in her carry-on bag. When she had it secured, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders: she was ready to go. All she needed to do now was get to the Airport in a few hours and she'd be free of this place, of this house, of this family. Sarah gave a quiet sob and raised a small hand to wipe her leaky nose. Feeling reckless, Linda said, "I wish the goblins would come and take you away; right now." She then turned back to her luggage and began hauling it out of the room and down the stairs, never once looking back at her daughter. She hadn't heard Sarah's soft cries cease the moment she had wished her away.

When she returned to the room to get the last of her things, she gave a start of surprise: there was a man in her room! She would have taken him for a theatrical man, fresh from the stage, and quite appealing, _if_ he hadn't been standing in her bedroom, uninvited. "Who are you?" She asked, hearing a small tremor of fear leak out into her voice.

"You know very well who I am," said the man, in a sophisticated British drawl.

_Who is he? Is he an actor? He looks a bit like that singer – that British guy with the red hair who sang something about Mars – oh, what's his name…wait! No! It couldn't be?_ "You're him, aren't you? You're the Goblin King?"

He nodded briefly, letting her know that she was correct, but added nothing, seeming to be waiting for her to realize something.

Linda looked around, finally realizing that Sarah wasn't anywhere to be seen. "Where's my daughter?"

He finally spoke. Arching one impossibly high eyebrow he said, "If you're referring to the child you wished away, she's there…" He pointed his leather-clad hand out the window, revealing a giant Labyrinth, and in the center, a castle. "You have thirteen hours to reach the center of the Labyrinth before your daughter becomes one of us, forever."

"Keep her. I don't want her back. She'd be better off there anyway-"

The Goblin King talked over her, "I'm afraid you don't have a choice. Attempt the Labyrinth, or become part of it. If you don't wish to attempt my Labyrinth, then you'd better resign yourself to being part of it for the rest of your life, and beyond. You'd make a nice stone sculpture, perhaps a water fountain." He watched her begin to protest, but again cut her off. "If the prospect of spending the rest of your days as a piece of stonework doesn't appeal to you, then I suggest you get started." With those words, the Goblin King faded away, leaving a stunned woman in his wake.

Jareth appeared in his throne room, where the previously howling child now looked around the room in silent wonder. The goblins didn't frighten her, he observed. Stooping before her, he said, kindly, "I don't believe we've met. I'm Jareth, and you are…?"

The little girl turned to face him, lifting up her red-rimmed eyes to meet his magnificent gaze. "I'm Sarah," she said.

Jareth didn't move. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. _Those eyes…I've seen those eyes before. But where?_ Her green orbs touched something inside of him, awakening something in his soul. In his mind, he saw those same eyes, save that this time they belonged to a beautiful young woman, with raven hair flowing down her back and the sun in her smile. That same woman he'd first seen in a dream when he ruled Somnaria. That same woman who'd lived in his dreams for years, filling him with love and hope and desperation all at once. His dream woman.

When Jareth had reached marrying age, he had deplored the thought of binding himself irreversibly to any of the trussed up fae-women thrust at him by their ambitious fathers. Their affections were shallow, and their hearts were ruled by greed, greed for the throne of the Underground. Jareth found a few attractive, and pleasant, but none had ever wanted him for him, and it had hurt each and every time he found that out. Eventually, Jareth decided to have nothing to do with them. Instead, he dreamed up the perfect woman; how she'd look, talk, act, and how much she'd love him for him alone, and not his crown. And then, on no particular night, she came to him in his dreams, everything he'd ever wanted in a companion, save for the fact that she was only a dream. He'd spent every sleeping moment with her, and every waking moment wanting to be with her. He'd known she was just a dream, the product of a lonely heart, but that hadn't stopped him from losing himself to her. It hadn't stopped him from becoming consumed by her, driven only by the need to hold her in his mind once more, until the wolves of the Underground were at Somnaria's door, and he could do little to drive them away.

When he'd given her up, when he'd given the dream up to address the threat of war in the Underground, he'd consoled himself with the hope that someday, somewhere, this woman would exist. Someday, the soul he'd met in his dreams, the one who'd held him while he cried, laughed with him when he smiled – that woman would exist, and he would know her. All he had to do was wait, and be vigilant. And so he waited, for centuries. The hope of finding her someday, of finding the other half of his soul had consoled him when he lost Somnaria. It had given him something to fight for when he lost so many brave subjects in the war. It had given him a reason to continue on every day when he became the utterly isolated Goblin King, surrounded by loving subjects not one of which he could confide in. He'd made many journeys Aboveground to look for her, for the form she'd taken in his dreams was that of a mortal woman. Never once had he come close to finding her. After a thousand years of waiting, he'd started to doubt that he'd ever find her. But then this child – this Sarah – had been wished away to him today. He knew with a gripping certainty that this child was _She_. This child, with a face swollen from crying, would grow to become the woman of his dreams. The woman his heart longed for.

"Jareth, where's my mommy?" Sarah spoke directly to him, unperturbed by the goblins surrounding her, unaffected by the unfamiliar surroundings of Jareth's throne room. Jareth looked at her, this tiny being of potential who would one day, perhaps, become the woman Jareth knew was meant for him and bring him the greatest joy he'd ever longed for, and he realized that she couldn't stay here. If she stayed the full thirteen hours, she'd become a goblin, and there was no going back from that transformation.

"Your mommy is on her way, precious. She'll be here soon, don't you worry, Sarah." He motioned to two of his more intelligent goblins, and they left the room. "Now, Sarah," said Jareth, "why don't you tell me about yourself. What do you like to do?"

And so she did. Jareth listened raptly to her every word. Right now, he was talking with a child, like he'd talked to hundreds of other children to calm them down when they were wished away. But she was different. She didn't need calming down; she'd calmed herself down the moment she arrived here. If anything, she calmed him. Her words held him captive: for all she was but three or four, her manner of speaking was dynamic. All that she said and described was so vivid, so lively, and the way she expressed herself was so…magical. He could sense an aura about her; in his time as King of Somnaria, he'd developed the talent of reading a person's dreams and in that arena, she was exceptionally gifted. He could catch glimpses of her dreams, bright flashes of color and energy, of such intensity that he'd not seen for centuries. She truly was a remarkable child.

"I have a present for you, Sarah."

Her eyes widened in surprise, but then hesitancy creased her brow. "Daddy says I shouldn't take presents from strangers."

"And your Daddy is very right. But I am hardly a stranger. What if I told you that I was a king?"

Her eyes widened again, "A king!?"

"Yes, a king. The Goblin King. Now, do you think you can accept my present?" He summoned a crystal and held it out for her, waiting for her response.

She squirmed, looking at the crystal, before smiling. "Okay! What is it?" He smiled as she took it in her small hands.

"It's a crystal, nothing more, nothing less. But if you turn it this way, it will show you your dreams."

Her face fell slightly, losing some of that joyful exuberance of before as she handed him back the crystal. "Mommy says my dreams aren't important."

_What a cruel woman your mother is,_ Jareth thought, but said instead, "You're mommy is very wrong, darling. Dreams are important. There's an entire kingdom just devoted to dreams here, and I used to rule it. I used to be the king of dreams. You don't think I'm unimportant, do you?"

"No..." She said, hesitantly.

Jareth held up the crystal again, watching her eyes focus on it as she took it once more. As Sarah raised it in her tiny hands to see it better, it popped out of existence, like a bubble might. She blinked. "Where'd it go?"

Jareth smiled and said, "It went here, and here." He tapped her head, and her chest.

"Oh," was her simple response.

Jareth picked her up and sat her on his throne as he faced her and began to sing with the goblins, presenting Sarah with an entertaining show. Sarah was transfixed by his voice, although the words probably flew over her head. When he finished his song, and the goblins stopped dancing, Jareth began to tell her stories, stories about the Labyrinth.

"...And they can really take off their heads when they dance?" Sarah asked, incredulous.

"They can take off their heads and their arms and their legs…they can take themselves completely apart. But if you ever meet them, don't talk to them – they'll try and pull you apart too!"

Jareth tickled her briefly, eliciting a bright bubble of laughter from her. When he stopped, she said, "Tell me another story about the bog of eternal stink."

"Of course, milady!" Sarah giggled again. "Well, there's a knight there – do you know what knights are?"

"Yes! Like Sir Lancelot!"

Jareth chuckled at her exuberance. "Exactly! Well, one day a knight like Sir Lancelot journeyed to the Labyrinth. He was tired after his journey, and didn't want to do any more traveling, so he got off his steed, Aurelius, and set up home on the shores of the bog of eternal stench."

"But didn't it stink too much?"

"Why yes it did, but let me tell you a great secret." Jareth looked left, and the right, as if he was looking for eavesdroppers, before leaning forward and whispering, "Sir Didymus can't _smell_." He leaned back, and Sarah made to laugh, but he silenced her with a finger to his lips and a mock serious, "Don't tell him I told you!" He grinned, to eliciting another giggle from her, before continuing his tale. "He thinks he can, and if you ever meet him, you should never _ever_ tell him that he can't smell – it'd hurt his feelings terribly. But since he couldn't smell the _awful_ stench of the bog, I gave Sir Didymus the duty of guarding it. He swore an oath to let no one cross his bridge over the bog without his permission."

"But if it stinks so much, why would anyone want to cross the bog?"

"To get to see the faeries on the other side, that's why."

"Faeries!"

"Do you know what a fairy is?" She nodded vigorously, and pointed at him, grabbing a hold of his hair playfully. Jareth laughed. "I'm not a fairy! I'm fae, which is like a human, except I have magic and I live for a long time." His disentangled her hands from his hair and said, "Now, let's see if we can't find you a fairy, but be careful – they're not as nice as they seem…"

Jareth took her on a tour of his castle, through the room of wandering staircases, through the goblin village outside, to see the faeries along the wall of the Labyrinth. The citizens they met along the way didn't see anything out of the ordinary; this was perfectly normal behavior for their king. He often took children around the kingdom while the person who wished them away ran the Labyrinth. It made sense: he was the closest thing to a human there; he was the one person in the entire Underground whose appearance wouldn't frighten them. Much.

In just a few short hours, Jareth had taken Sarah all over the Kingdom. He'd shown her the faeries, and introduced her to the Labyrinth's surly gatekeeper. Jareth had shown her everything exciting and wonderful about the Labyrinth in hopes that she'd remember it as she grew up and want to come back someday in the future. By the end of their journeying, Sarah was sleepy, and so they returned to his throne room.

Jareth placed her on his throne and covered her with his cape as she fell fast asleep. A few minutes later, in walked Sarah's mother, escorted by the two goblins he had sent. From her appearance and her indignation at being summoned, it was obvious to Jareth that she had barely been trying at all. He knew she would tell him, again, to keep Sarah, but he couldn't take that chance. She had to mature in her own world, and then she could come to stay in his. If he took her in now, she'd become a goblin, and he couldn't have that.

He could threaten to turn her into a statue again, to make her try, but he was anxious to get Sarah out of here now, before anymore time passed. In his most imperious tone and stance he said, "You will take your daughter home. You will wait for her father to return, and then you will leave. You may do as you like after that, but you will not have any further part in Sarah's life. You have forfeited your rights as a mother." She opened her mouth angrily, perhaps to demand just who he thought he was, but he again stopped her before she could speak. "That child," and here he pointed at Sarah, "has suffered enough at your hands. Any time you spend with her will be hereafter monitored. I don't think I need to tell you what fate would await you should you even think of hurting her in any way, ever again." He waved his hands, and they were back at her house.

Sarah was in his arms, and he walked silently to Sarah's room, knowing where it was without being told. He set Sarah on her bed and tucked her in, under the covers.

She opened her eyes sleepily, and said softly, "Goodnight, Jareth." He smoothed her hair back, and whispered in her ear,

"Goodnight, Sarah darling. Sweet dreams." Sarah snuggled into her covers, letting out a child-like sigh, and then Jareth disappeared, as if he had never been there at all.

--------------

Jareth awoke. His head was still pillowed on Sarah's lap, and he could just see her by the light of the dying fire. She was still sleeping. He sat up slowly, carefully so as to not wake her, and stirred up the fire, bringing it back to warming life. The sky was still black; he didn't know how long he had been asleep, or why he'd dreamed that particular dream. He'd not thought of the first time that he physically met Sarah in years.

He'd waited around, after Sarah's mother had thought he'd gone. He'd waited, watching, making sure she waited until Sarah's father returned. He saw their fight, and he saw how Sarah's father accepted that his wife was leaving him reluctantly, although he must have seen it coming. Sarah had been upset when her mother had left, but not as upset as she'd been the night before, held safe as she was in her father's arms. Jareth made good on his warning, though, and watched every meeting that Sarah'd had with her mother after that, until the day Sarah came back to his Labyrinth when she wished Toby away. He'd made sure that Linda Williams stayed away from Sarah, so she never hurt her again. He would have felt bad about what he was doing, keeping a mother from her child, save that he hadn't really had to do anything: Linda Williams had left her family and had only looked back when she'd been made to by Sarah's father.

Sarah hadn't remembered what her mother had been like that day, or any day before it. She'd idolized her mother, posting placards and posters from her mother's plays all over her room. When she'd been faced with the prospect of a new mother, of a step-mother, she'd reacted as any loyal daughter would have and had rebelled. He'd seen it; he'd expected it. But it appeared she'd gotten over it in the time she'd been gone, and that pleased Jareth. Sarah had needed a mother, one that would love her like she should have been loved, and Karen seemed as close as Sarah would come to it.

Sarah hadn't remembered her time in the Labyrinth either, not consciously. But in her dreams he was certain she returned to the Labyrinth. She had to remember something – why else had her room mirrored the Labyrinth so exactly?

Sarah's leg twitched, and Jareth looked at her, wondering what it was she dreamed of. He'd not tried reading anyone's dreams ever since he first met her, and now he found he preferred the mystery rather than the truth. He saw that she was shivering from the cold and no wonder; she was wearing only his shirt and her under things; she must be freezing! Very slowly, and very quietly Jareth scooped this sleeping Sarah up into his arms, like he had done when she was a child, and he laid her ever so gently on her side, facing the fire. But unlike when she was a child, when he'd tucked her into her small, warm bed, this time Jareth curled up beside her, behind her, pressing her into the warmth of his body. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to get her warm, or at least that was what he'd tell her if she awoke.

Sarah stirred briefly in her sleep and Jareth froze, afraid that she was going to awake. Instead, Sarah simply curled herself into his embrace and pulled his arms tighter around her, snuggling into him. Jareth relaxed, and let himself go back to sleep. He didn't need his dream-Sarah tonight. Tonight, he had the real, flesh-and-blood Sarah safe in his arms.


	19. Chapter 19

_Author's corner_

_Jareth: (picks up bottle of cherry-flavored cough syrup and regards it with a raised eyebrow)_

_Author: What?_

_Jareth: Children's formula?_

_Author: (coughs uncontrollably for a few minutes) So?_

_Jareth: No wonder you haven't updated – you've gone daft._

_Author: Hey, watch it._

_Jareth: Has a frog taken up permanent residence in your throat?_

_Author: (Indignant) Listen, you! I've been sick, thank you very much. If taking children's cough syrup is the only way I can stop coughing for five minutes at time, then that's what I'm going to do, and I don't need some snarky, high-and-mighty Goblin King making fun of me. I might just decide to retaliate in writing._

_Jareth: (sarcastically) I'm terrified._

_Author: If you wish to enjoy the rest of the story looking like Ziggy Stardust, then by all means, please keep talking._

_Jareth: I'm not sure I know what it is you're threatening me with._

_Sarah: A threat? Is she threatening you?_

_Jareth: Yes. She said she'd turn me into Ziggy Stardust, but I'm not-_

_Sarah: (uncontrollably) No! God, NO!_

_Author: Then tell him to behave._

_Sarah: Jareth, behave._

_Jareth: But I don't understand – I mean, what's wrong with this Ziggy-_

_Sarah: I'll explain it to you later. Just apologize. (gives Jareth a look)_

_Jareth: (Bows stiffly) Sorry._

_Sarah: (Beams at Jareth)_

_Jareth: (Grins back at Sarah)_

_Author: (Rolls eyes) Get a room, you two!_

_Jareth: Would you write us one?_

_Author: (Shakes her head. Turns, notices readers) Hey! I'm really sorry it's taken me so long to update! I've had a lot of things going on, and I've been sick. Hopefully it won't happen again, but I can't make any guarantees. What I can give you, though, is a relatively short (again, sorry!) new chapter. Standard disclaimer applies. Please review!_

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Sarah opened her eyes, letting the morning light bring her awake. _Where am I?_ _The Labyrinth. Why am I out here? Oh, _now_ I remember._ She sat up and stretched, feeling her joints protest every movement. Raising an arm to eye-level Sarah took a quick look at her bruises, making a wry mental note: _never go swimming in hand-infested waters again; these bruises are going to take weeks to fade! _Suddenly Sarah realized that Jareth wasn't there. She looked to her right quickly, and then to her left, but he was no where to be seen. Before she could panic, however, she noticed a message for her in the dirt, written in Jareth's flowing hand: _Gone for a walk. Will return soon. J._

_Why would he go for a walk? Why would he leave me out here, alone, _she wondered, before her bladder gave an uncomfortable twinge and answered her own question. Somehow, Sarah just couldn't imagine Jareth walking up to some tree with his back to her to take care of business. Sarah stood up slowly on her unsteady legs, brushing debris from the ground off of her legs and Jareth's shirt. Once standing, she looked around for a private area in which to relieve herself.

In the morning light, Sarah could more clearly see their surroundings. They were indeed in a forest, surrounded by towering pillars of grey, lichen-covered bark, which in turn was miraculously bounded by the stone walls of the Labyrinth; this was almost nothing more than an overgrown box-garden. In the near distance, where two of the crumbling stone walls met and formed a corner behind a meager shrub was a modicum of privacy that Sarah hastened to take advantage of.

When she emerged, she rubbed her hands over her face and through her hair, wishing she could have some water or something to wash up with. No sooner had she thought it than the faint sound of running water met her ears. Turning to her right, Sarah followed the stone wall a short distance until a tiny stream came into view. The stream wasn't more than a few hand spans wide, but the water looked fresh and pure, and Sarah was thirsty. She knelt down and cupped her hands, scooping up some of the sparkling water and bringing it to her lips without a moment's hesitation. _Mmmm_, she said in her mind. _Now _this_ is fresh water. _ Splashing it onto her face, Sarah tidied herself as best she could, her fingers finding more and more bruises she hadn't know she'd had. Combing her fingers through her hair, Sarah supposed she was as presentable as she'd ever be, given the circumstances. Besides, after staying outside all night, Jareth wouldn't look any better. _Jareth! I forgot all about him! What if he's come back and can't find me? I promised him I'd never run off again!_

Sarah jumped up and ran back in the direction she came. Her steps were too hasty, too blind, and she tripped over a knotted root hidden under a sparse, leafy blanket. Sarah instinctively closed her eyes as the hard earth rushed up to meet her, angling her body so that she landed on her side. When Sarah opened her eyes, she noticed an amazing change: instead of hard earth, she was lying on a bed of soft, green moss. _This wasn't here before. This _definitely_ wasn't here before. It's like the Labyrinth made me a cushion. But why,_ Sarah thought to herself, bewildered. She pushed herself to her feet and in no direction in particular said "thanks." Nothing answered her; there was no disembodied voice saying "you're welcome," but Sarah hadn't expected it. Before anything else odd could happen, she hurried back to her and Jareth's camp of the night before.

Jareth wasn't back yet. Sarah saw that their camp was as empty as she had left it. Well, maybe not quite as empty…there were a few pale pink flowers near the tree where she'd slept last night that she hadn't noticed this morning in her need to visit a privy. Sarah used Jareth's absence as a chance to hurriedly squeeze into her now-dry jeans. She wasn't cold; she simply felt indecent running about half-naked, wearing only Jareth's shirt and her underwear. The morning itself wasn't cold either; on the contrary it was quite nice, a comfortable, balmy temperature somewhere between cold and perfect unlike last night, which Sarah distinctly remembered shivering through. But at some point last night, her shivers had been replaced with warmth, with blissful warmth, and Sarah had slept comfortably until morning.

Sarah sat down next to Jareth's message in the soil, the archway through the stone wall he must have gone through clear in her line of sight. Tracing her finger over Jareth's text, Sarah was glad she'd worn that pendant Jareth had given her…his message was in sylvan, which she still couldn't read. _It really is a beautiful language_, Sarah thought to herself, admiring the curls and flourishes. She looked around, noticing how bright the morning was, and how green the forest was. No where else in the Labyrinth could compare. That wasn't to say that this particular forest was thriving – far from it. The trees were half-leaved at best, and most of the underlying flora was still struggling for life. But by comparison, it was greener and more alive than any other section of the Labyrinth to date. But _why?_ And _what_ was keeping Jareth?

_Jareth_. She'd had a dream about Jareth, hadn't she? _Yes. _Sarah closed her eyes briefly, remembering. _I dreamed that my mother wished me away when I was little, and Jareth came and took me._ She opened her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief._ That's absurd! I'd remember something like that if it had happened…wouldn't I? _The problem was, Sarah wasn't so sure. The dream had been so real, like a memory long repressed, flowing back into her mind in full, vivid color. _Ok, well…if it were real, then my parents would have had to split up when I was four. Oh. Well, they did. But if it were real, I would have met Jareth, Sir Didymus, and the Fireys long before I wished Toby away…and I would have seen the Labyrinth and that room with the staircases before I wished Toby away too. But I didn't start dreaming of any of them until I returned home with Toby. Right?_ Again, Sarah wasn't sure. She couldn't remember when she started dreaming about the Labyrinth, and about Jareth…she dreamed of them so often that at times she felt like she'd spent her whole life dreaming of him and of this place.

_Well, this is certainly productive_, Sarah told herself sardonically. So far, she hadn't found anything to disprove her dream. _Wait,_ she thought. _What about that thing that Jareth supposedly gave me – that crystal. He said it would show me my dreams. Now _that_ certainly wasn't true. I don't have any special powers to see my dreams. I have pretty normal dreams, aside from the fact that His Royal Highness, the Goblin King takes it upon himself to inhabit them quite often._ _Not that I'm complaining. _Smiling, Sarah continued in her internal monologue._ No. I don't have any special powers at all. I could dream all day and all night and it wouldn't do anything. It was just a dream. But why did I dream that he gave me the power to see my dreams? I mean, I was already dreaming, so I think I would call that a bit redundant. _

_Now, a bit of magic…that would have been more like it. I could use a bit of magic. I wonder what it's like to simply think something and then have it happen? What would it be like if I simply told these flowers in my mind to grow, and they did? All I'd have to do is think "grow," and it'd happen…_

Sarah's internal dialogue died as the pale, pink blossoms she'd noticed before doubled in size. Sarah stared at the flowers, her eyes going round._Coincidence?_ She asked herself. Only one way to find out. _Grow. _She sucked in her breath as the blossoms obeyed instantly, the pale petals wrinkling before unfurling to three-times their original size. What else could she try? _Change color. Brighter. Yes._ Sarah sent a shaking hand down to pluck one of the vibrant violet, rose-sized blossoms. She held it up to carefully study it; it looked like a normal flower, and had she seen it as it was now, she wouldn't have thought anything of it. But the fact remained that a mere minute ago, it had been a tiny, pastel-pink flower barely the size of her pinkie.

_Ok. Um. That's…weird…and …umm… useful? What else can I do? _Sarah looked at the limbs Jareth had stacked for their fire and selected one at random. _You_, she told it_, stand up._ The wooden branch levitated out of the bunch and hovered in the air before her, waiting for her next command. Sarah thought for a moment, and then the branch dived to the earth, its tip carving into the earthen surface first an 'S,' followed by an 'a,' and so on, until Sarah was staring at her name. The stick dropped as she shifted her focus to a small stone, making it twirl in a slow circle, and then faster, and faster. With every thing Sarah made dance, she felt something awaken inside of her. With every stone she touched with this newfound power, Sarah felt something come alive in her heart and her mind, an outpouring of potential, something she'd had within her all along but had never realized it.

As stone chased leaf, leaf chased twig, twig chased flower, and flower chased stone in an ever expanding circle around her head, Sarah remembered._ This was the power Jareth gave me in that dream. I remember it now. It _was_ real. He gave me that crystal…and it disappeared... into me... he said. Into my heart and my mind. I've felt it there before, an untapped potential within me, an uncertainty, a sense that something more was needed, only I didn't know what it was. _

_God! It's part of the story, isn't it? _"But what no one knew is that the king of the goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers…" she recited under her breath. _He gave me special powers. Didn't he tell me that everything I read was real? Why didn't I believe him? _

Suddenly the stone, the twig, and the flower dropped out the air as Sarah's excitement faded. The leaf floated down despondently as Sarah realized that the entire dream had been true. _My mother wished me away. She didn't want me. _

Sarah tossed her head defiantly: _Well, that explains a lot. No wonder she cancelled so many of our meetings. No wonder she never had time for me. She didn't want me. She didn't want to see me. And I was the only one who didn't get it. _

_Why didn't they tell me, _Sarah thought angrily. _All this time, all that time…I was left hanging, waiting for her to call, for her to send me a card on my birthday…if I'd have known she didn't want anything to do with me, I wouldn't have spent my whole childhood waiting! Dad knew, Karen knew…Jareth knew! Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't he tell me I'd been here before? Why did he keep it a secret?_ Sarah clenched her fists angrily, making the flames of the banked fire surge upwards. Sarah eyed the hungry flames and decided to feed them from Jareth's pile of branches. She selected a random handful and mentally tossed them onto the fire. She added more, not caring how long it might have taken Jareth to gather all that wood without magic, not caring that Jareth would have to somehow douse this roaring fire before they left. _He'll have to douse my temper while he's at it. Serves him right for not telling me_, she justified to herself, levitating yet another limb into the fire.

_Wait! Why did Jareth have to gather all of this by hand, when I can move it by magic? Why couldn't he use his magic? Didn't he say that he barely had any magic out here? Yes, that's exactly what he said. _"So why do _I_ have magic?" Sarah's musings became verbal, and she forgot about being upset with Jareth and about the bruises covering her skin as she puzzled through this latest stumper. "Well, let's be logical. What exactly am I asking? I want to know why the Labyrinth is letting me use my magic - and I can't believe how _weird_ it is to say that - within its walls when it practically denies Jareth's. Ok. So that's the question. Now what?" Sarah looked around; some part of her hoping that since she'd asked the right question, the answer would somehow be made obvious to her. No dice. The Labyrinth was quiet, the air was almost hushed, waiting for something, but there were no hints to be found.

"Ok, Sarah, it looks like you're on your own. Think. Why would the Labyrinth afford me more power than Jareth? What have I done to merit it? I spent the night here. That's not very significant – people live out here, and they don't have more power than Jareth. Ok…well, I have spent a lot of time out here. No, for the same reason as before. Well…I did solve the Labyrinth. No, other people have solved it, I'm sure…" Sarah stopped in mid-sentence, an idea forming in her mind. _Jareth said I was the only person who had ever solved the Labyrinth in his time as King…so that would mean that the last time the Labyrinth was solved was when Jareth solved it during that war…_

Sarah shifted in her seat, knowing she was close to an answer, very close; she could feel it, and the atmosphere mirrored her. The very trees seemed to be encouraging her, the branches dancing in a wind that said, "Yes, go on, you're nearly there…keep going…" _How did Jareth become king over the Labyrinth? While he solved it, he said he felt like the Labyrinth was sizing him up – what if it was? What if the Labyrinth could choose who got to have power over it? What if the Labyrinth chose someone while they ran the Labyrinth, and made the path easy, like Jareth said his path was, and like my path was…? What then? That would mean that the Labyrinth chose Jareth to solve it, and to rule the Labyrinth. And that would mean that the Labyrinth chose me to solve it…and to…to…_

Sarah's thought was cut off from its momentous conclusion as Jareth walked in through the stone archway. Sarah immediately shifted her attention to him, and the reaction of the Labyrinth was immediate. That patient, pregnant silence exploded. An ominous rumbling began in the ground and erupted through the immediate stone walls of the Labyrinth, including the one with the archway in which Jareth stood. A fine powder of dust rose into the air as the wall came crumbling down, sending huge stones hurtling towards Jareth, who had no time to get out of the way.

"Jareth!" Sarah reacted instantly. _Stop!_ She ordered, shooting out her right hand forcefully, her palm facing the disintegrating wall, her fingers splayed as the magic coursed through her. The wall obeyed, the stones stopping in midair at her command. _Now, go back. Rebuild that wall. Now._ The stones reversed their downward trajectories, soaring upwards, reforming the wall and the archway almost seamlessly. Jareth stared at the stones wordlessly, completely bewildered. When the wall had been rebuilt, and Jareth was out of danger, Sarah scolded the Labyrinth. _Don't _ever_ do that again! Don't ever try to hurt him again. There was no need to get angry at him; I would have figured it out even though he interrupted me. I _have_ figured it out. You've chosen me to rule you._

The air became silent and calm. As Sarah relaxed her hand and her posture, the morning light intensified, illuminating the rich luster of the walls and the forest and area all around her. The trees burst into full-leaf, fresh grass shot up from the pale earth, purple flowers on ruby vines over the wall burst into bloom. The Labyrinth had come back to life.

Jareth stared at Sarah, confusion making him utterly speechless. Sarah took one last look around and then told Jareth in her calmest tone, "I think I've figured out what the problem with the Labyrinth is."


	20. Chapter 20

AN: _Before you ask, let me tell you: I did fall off the face of the Earth. I spent some time on Mars, but I didn't find any life. I am terribly, terribly sorry both for the delay in the posting of this chapter and for not responding to all of my lovely, wonderful, kind, sweet, thoughtful, charitable, helpful reviewers. I'm very sorry. If you can forgive me, maybe you can accept a chapter that's three times the length of the previous one, and maybe, just maybe, you might feel the urge to review it..?_

oooooooooooooooooooooo

"_I think I've figured out what the problem with the Labyrinth is."_

Sarah watched as Jareth waited in silence for her to explain. He looked much the same as ever; a night out in the wilderness hadn't affected his usual, perfect appearance. Not one single hair was out of place on his head, and the only thing marring his face was an utterly perplexed and yet expectant expression, which Sarah had to admit only added to his aesthetic appeal. _Damn him_, she thought ruefully. _Here I am looking as bedraggled as possible, and in he strolls, perfectly groomed, prince charming to a flipping tee._ Suddenly Sarah remembered her prior anger at Jareth, and it resurfaced in a quiet, simmering manner as she asked slowly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Jareth racked his brains. _What is she talking about? Tell her what?_ He was still trying to get it through his head that Sarah had finally figured out that she had magic, and that the Labyrinth was actually letting her use that magic. He felt that he should be markedly grateful to Sarah for saving his neck from being crushed by those giant stones, but her low, quietly menacing tone of voice and her subtly-threatening posture stilled him with a measure of warning. In his confused state, Jareth said the only thing he could think of: "Tell you what?"

It was the wrong thing. Sarah swelled like an enraged mother hen, but she didn't yet raise her voice as she elaborated. "Why didn't you tell me that I'd been here before? Why didn't you tell me that I was wished away?"

_Oh, _Jareth thought. _That. _He swore silently to himself. Trust his luck to have her remember that now. _But she didn't remember it_, he reminded himself._ Why does she remember it now? She can't have had the same dream I had – that would be…improbable…to say the least. _Jareth sighed softly. _I knew this day would come; I knew she'd eventually remember. What was it I was going to tell her when she did? Oh, yes, I remember. _Jareth opened his mouth and asked as neutrally as possible, "Would you have wanted to know?"

_Would I have wanted to know_, Sarah thought to herself. _Would I have wanted to know?!_ "Yes!" she yelled. Jareth visibly flinched at her raised voice. "Yes, I would have wanted to know! If had known, so many things would have been easier in my life; so many things would have been less painful, less hurtful to me. It would have explained so much – so many things would have made much more sense if I had known. Why I was obsessed with the Labyrinth, for one. Why I dreamed of it constantly; why my imagination was so _grotesquely_ overgrown…" Sarah turned away from him and began pacing, visibly agitated.

As Sarah paced angrily, Jareth could see the years of confusion, suffering, and anger she had actively repressed starting to surface. He had known that she would be angry with him for hiding this part of her past, but he also knew that the emotion preparing to erupt from her owed its origin more to her abandonment by her mother than to his actions. Jareth braced himself to endure it, to aid her in getting all of it out, and if she would let him, to help her pick up the pieces afterward.

Abruptly she stopped pacing and turned to Jareth, shock on her face. "My god! You knew me when I was a child, when I was four years old! You saw me then – you met my _mother_ – you gave me _magic_ –why didn't you tell me? Why didn't anyone tell me? _That's_ why my mother didn't want me – _that's_ why she never wanted to see me – _that's_ why all I ever got from her was cheap playbills and empty photos – she didn't want me – and no one told me! No one could take five seconds to simply tell me that my mother didn't want anything to do with me! All those years I spent waiting for her, hoping that she'd come and rescue me from my evil stepmother and the slave's existence I thought I lived – all that time I spent hoping – all in vain!"

Jareth said nothing, watching silently as Sarah tore at her clothing in frustration, resuming her pacing. "If I'd have known – it would have been so different! I would have had a normal childhood. I wouldn't have gotten obsessed with anything, least of all you and this Labyrinth! I never would have wished Toby away, I never would have come back here. If I had known, none of this would ever have happened. All the problems with the Labyrinth, the darkness, and all the lives lost to it – none of that would ever have happened. But you didn't tell me – and now this has happened! What else haven't you told me? What else is hidden?" She advanced on him, her face red and her breathing heavy. "What other secrets about my past are there?" she asked accusingly.

Jareth held his ground as she advanced, keeping his eyes on her incensed face. _She's so close to getting at the heart of why she's so angry; to placate her now would be a gross disservice, but goodness knows I can't bear seeing her like this. _With a few, carefully-chosen words, Jareth decided to penetrate the cloak of anger Sarah was shielding herself with. "I hardly think not telling you that you spent several hours here as a child warrants this treatment. I wasn't the one who wished you away."

Sarah stared at him in wide-eyed incredulity, unable to believe the crassness of his last statement. When she regained her voice she told him acerbically "You're right; you don't deserve this. After all, all you did was _lie_ to me."

"I _lied_ to you?" he asked, feeling a small edge of his own anger creep into his voice against his will. "_How_?"

"By keeping this a secret – by hiding my past, my memories-"

"By wanting to _protect_ you?"

Sarah fell silent. Jareth continued in his cathartic vein. "Let me get this straight: wanting to protect you from the knowledge that your own mother didn't want you, that she gave you up, and told me to keep you for all she cared constitutes lying to you? _Fine_. Then I lied to you. And I'd do it again too if it meant sparing you some measure of pain, no matter how small." He faced her, his expression softening as he saw his words penetrate her fiery mask and hit their mark. "Honestly Sarah, would you really have wanted to know?"

Sarah let his words sink in, and suddenly realized that she wouldn't have wanted to know. After what Jareth had just told her, she didn't want to know now. She shuddered to think that had she known, she never would have come back to the Labyrinth. Sarah couldn't imagine a life without the Labyrinth, or a life without Jareth. Sarah's eyes turned to Jareth, to the man who could look at her with such concern and care after she'd just railed so fiercely at him. She felt rotten inside, and as Jareth felt her mood shift, he was just in time to catch her as she blindly sought the shelter of his arms. Jareth wrapped his arms around her as she cried into his chest. "No," she sobbed, "I wouldn't have wanted to know. I'm so sorry, Jareth."

"Shhh," Jareth said, tightening his embrace, rubbing her back to comfort her. He didn't tell her not to fret, he didn't tell her not to cry; he knew she needed to cry, that she needed to let everything out. He simply held her while she did so. Eventually, Sarah's tears and sobs subsided, and she leaned back, using her slightly shaking hands to wipe her soggy face. Jareth didn't let go of her, and she didn't move out of his embrace.

Jareth studied Sarah's swollen face, her red-rimmed eyes and still-leaky nose, and felt a crushing wave of emotion sweep over him. _Even in this state, she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen._

Sarah lifted her head up and met Jareth's concerned eyes, and held them. There was a connection in their locked gazes; something passed between them, and Jareth had never wanted to kiss her as badly as he did now. He felt an electric jolt as he realized that she wasn't looking away, that she wasn't backing down, that she was still holding on to him. His throat went dry and he licked his lips, thrilled even more when Sarah mirrored him, her eyes on his lips. _Could it be…_he wondered, half-elated, half-desperately hoping he wasn't mistaken as he began to close the distance between them...

A branch fell on the other side of the wall with a resounding thud, and its noise jarred Sarah out of Jareth's arms. She seemed to come to herself, and she shook her head slightly as if to clear it while she looked away from him, at anything but him. Jareth hid how crestfallen he was by looking away as well. _Idiot_, he told himself. _How could you be so stupid, so foolish? You should have given up that dream long ago. _

_I know,_ he told himself with a depressing finality. He took a short moment to compose his features before he looked back at her, and was just in time to catch Sarah as she fell.

Sarah registered the feeling of Jareth's strong arms coming around her again, supporting her as her legs gave out. His frightened voice surrounded her as her gaze narrowed to his beautiful, worried eyes before they too faded to blackness.

"Sarah? Sarah! _Sarah!_" As Sarah's eyes closed and her body went slack, Jareth scooped up her lifeless form into his arms, cradling her to his chest. He should have seen this coming; she'd used a lot of magic this morning just to save him, and to one as new to magic as she was, at least to its use, it was too much for her body to handle. Magic came from within; it was an energy of sorts, and Sarah had used so much of it that she'd depleted the very energy she needed for maintaining consciousness.

Jareth shifted Sarah in his arms, weighing his options. In his current magic-less state, the only way he could get the both of them back to the castle would be for him to carry Sarah the entire way. Despite his slight frame, Jareth was strong enough to do so, but the efforts involved would leave him nearly as exhausted as Sarah was now. On the other hand, he could set Sarah down and wait for her to recover, but that could take hours and he didn't want to wait that long. He couldn't bide the idea of doing nothing while waiting for Sarah to wake up; he had to do _something_. Jareth knew that Sarah was essentially well; all she needed was to recover her strength, but it didn't stop a great knot of anxiety for her from forming in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't wait. And, with the most recent changes in the Labyrinth – how everything seemed to be returned to normal – his attentions would be needed as soon as possible to address those changes. Jareth looked down at Sarah's now-serene face. _The sooner I get her to the castle and into a proper bed the better_, he told himself. That decided him; tightening his grip on the precious bundle he carried, Jareth began the long trek back to the Goblin City.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

The sun beat down on Jareth's back as the gates of the Goblin City came into view. _Finally,_ thought Jareth. As the sweat beaded on his brow and pooled down his back, he covered the last few steps of his journey, ignoring the barbs of pain his weary arms kept sending. Once he was inside the city's gates, he felt the magic the Labyrinth denied him pour back into him, and he seized it before his exhaustion could take over, using it to transport both him and Sarah to the first place he could think of: his room.

Once inside his chamber, Jareth staggered the three steps it took him to make it to his bed and laid Sarah atop the covers. The second she was free of his arms, he immediately sank into the chair beside his bed and held a shaking hand up to his forehead. Sarah didn't weigh much, but after several hours, even her light weight had exhausted him. Still, Jareth felt a sense of accomplishment. He was no nearer to finding out about what Sarah had discovered this morning, and Sarah still hadn't stirred from her almost death-like sleep, but at least the knot of worry in his belly had been eased by his ability to exert himself on her behalf. After taking a moment to recover the strength to stand, Jareth made it to his feet and strode to his wardrobe. He opened one of the doors, searching for something Mrs. Chartha could change Sarah into. Having had years of experience with magic, Jareth knew that all Sarah really needed was rest, so there was no need to call a healer, not even for the bruises she bore for there was nothing immediate that needed to be done about them. After grabbing a plain white night shirt, Jareth turned and caught sight of himself in the mirror. He paused, noting his pale complexion, his wilted hair, and his thoroughly disheveled appearance. Jareth raised a sore arm and discreetly sniffed his armpit. Wrinkling his nose, he decided that a few moments spent on personal hygiene might be in order.

Several moments later Jareth emerged from his bathroom, attired in crisp, fresh clothing; tired but clean. He set the nightshirt for Sarah on the bed and left to quickly find Mrs. Chartha, hating to leave Sarah alone for long. He supposed he could undress and then dress Sarah himself, but he had several reasons for not doing so, one of the primary ones being that he didn't think Sarah would take kindly to him seeing her in the buff.

Mrs. Chartha was in the scullery, and Jareth drew her aside quietly and explained to her what she was to do, his final instruction to her to "not, under any circumstances, leave Sarah's side until I return." Jareth waited to see that Mrs. Chartha understood him, and then left the scullery, turning his feet towards the great hall. He had to appraise his advisors about this latest change in the Labyrinth, although a quick glance out the window showed Jareth an almost idyllic Labyrinth that few could fail to notice. Despite the life fairly flowing from the Labyrinth, the darkness still sat firmly entrenched in the eastern sector, a blight on the otherwise beautiful landscape. That too would have to be addressed.

But Jareth could not leave Sarah alone for the time it took him to meet with his advisors; Jareth felt extremely protective of her, as he always had, and the thought of her awakening alone and confused did not sit right with him. But he certainly didn't want Mrs. Chartha to be the first person Sarah met; Mrs. Chartha was an excellent housekeeper, but her personality took a long time to become accustomed to, and Sarah had already expressed her uneasiness in Mrs. Chartha's company. No, Mrs. Chartha wouldn't do, and since Jareth couldn't be there himself, that left one viable option.

He found Hoggle where Hoggle was usually to be found these days: with Clara. Jareth schooled his features to exude a calm nonchalance he didn't feel and said, "Good day, Clara, Hoggle." He nodded at their greetings and went straight to the point. "I wondered if I might steal Hoggle for a few hours, Clara?"

Clara hid her initial reluctance quickly and then nodded. "Of course, your majesty."

"And what might yeh need to steal me for, Jareth?" came Hoggle's grouchy query.

Jareth ignored Hoggle's question and said to Clara, "Thank you, Clara. I'll send him back to you as soon as I can. Come along, Hogwart." Jareth raised his hand to his brow in a parting salute to Clara, and then strode away without a backwards glance at Hoggle. Jareth couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face as he heard Hoggle's reluctant, grumbling steps behind him. Once they cleared the great hall, and reached a secluded area, Jareth slowed his steps to allow Hoggle to walk beside him. As soon as Hoggle was near enough to speak to, Jareth dropped his façade of nonchalance.

Looking straight ahead, Jareth said, "I need you to look after Sarah for a few hours."

"Why does Sarah need looking after? She's not still ill, is she?"

Jareth stopped walking and turned to face Hoggle, not wishing to alarm the dwarf but still letting Hoggle see how serious he was. "No, she isn't ill. Sarah's resting right now. There was a … an accident in the darkness yesterday. Sarah came out of it markedly the worse for wear. She-"

"Worse for wear!? What's that supposed to mean? And what was she doing in the darkness?!" Hoggle looked up at Jareth, his face equal parts anger and worry.

Jareth suppressed the wave of weariness that passed over him to explain briefly, "Sarah went to the darkness yesterday; why is unimportant. She escaped, but she was injured – not seriously, but enough to leave quite a few marks. This morning she used magic, and Sarah overexerted herself and collapsed. Now, as I said, she's resting now, and I want you to be there in case she awakes in the next few hours."

Jareth resumed walking, hearing Hoggle fall into step beside him. Eventually Hoggle asked, his voice slightly throaty, "Is she all right?"

Jareth gave Hoggle a reassuring smile. "She's fine. All she needs is rest, but I think she'll feel better when she awakes if she has a friend there at her side."

Hoggle breathed an audible sigh of relief, but then puzzlement creased his face. "Why'd you pick me?" he asked, looking at his feet.

"Because you're Sarah's friend," Jareth said simply.

"Oh," was all Hoggle had to add.

They arrived at Jareth's door, and Jareth pushed it open, holding the door open for Hoggle. Mrs. Chartha had just finished putting Sarah into the nightshirt Jareth had set aside, and was clearing away Sarah's dirty clothes. Sarah lay on the midnight blue coverlet, silent and still, her breathing even. Hoggle took one look at the bruises marring Sarah's exposed flesh and turned a pair of narrowed, heated eyes to Jareth.

"Yeh said she was fine! You call that fine?"

Jareth silenced Hoggle with a fierce look. "She will mend," he whispered. Jareth squared his shoulders and then said matter of factly, "Help me get her under the covers." Jareth slid his protesting arms under her still form and gently lifted her up while Hoggle pulled the covers out from under her. Laying her back down, Jareth pulled the coverlet up to her chin, unable to resist tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. If Hoggle noticed how Jareth's fingers lingered on Sarah's face, he said nothing.

Eventually Jareth stood back and composed himself. "Thank you, Mrs. Chartha. You may go." He waited as Mrs. Chartha bundled up Sarah's and his soiled clothing and left the room, and then he addressed Hoggle. "I want you to sit here until she wakes up, or until I return, whichever happens first. Don't leave her side for any reason. If she does wake up, she's going to be weak, very weak. Don't let Sarah leave the room; don't let her leave the bed if you can help it. I will return as soon as I can."

Hoggle nodded, and climbed into the chair beside Jareth's bed, his feet dangling inches above the ground. Jareth suppressed an involuntary spasm of laughter at the sight, and nodded solemnly at Hoggle before leaving the room. Once outside the door, he paused for a moment, leaning against the wall as another wave of weariness swept over him. _Get a grip on yourself, _he chastised himself. Jareth shook his head, stood up straight and prepared to address his advisory council.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sarah stretched silently as she opened her eyes. Amber light from the setting sun filtered in through the large windows beside the bed, and the room it illuminated, Sarah realized, was _not_ her own. She tried to sit up, but the effort involved was too great at present; all she could manage was a meager flop.

"'Bout time yeh woke up," came Hoggle's gruff voice. Sarah turned her head so she could see him, and gave him a weak smile. Hoggle dropped his gruff demeanor temporarily to ask, "How do you feel, Sarah?"

"I'm fine, Hoggle," she said hoarsely. "Where am I? This isn't my room."

"It's Jareth's room. He brung yeh here, then went and fetched me to look after yeh. Said yeh was in the darkness. Mind explainin' that to me?"

Sarah had the grace to look sheepish, and she pulled herself slowly into a sitting-up position. "I snuck out there yesterday; I wanted to see what the darkness was all about. It turned out badly, which was my own fault. Jareth came and saved me. Hoggle…how long have I been asleep?"

"Yeh was asleep when Jareth brung me here, an' I've been here since midday."

"Did he carry me all the way from the Labyrinth?" Sarah looked incredulously at Hoggle and saw that he didn't know, but what other answer was there? _Oh my God! This is where he sleeps! I'm in Jareth's bed!_ Sarah couldn't stop the wry voice in her mind that added:_ you've been here before plenty of times in your dreams; I don't see what the big fuss is about._

Sarah ignored the thought, and asked instead, "Where is Jareth, Hoggle? I need to tell him what happened in the Labyrinth."

"I dunno. All's he told me is to stay here until yeh woke up."

"Well, I'm awake now." Sarah summoned her strength and slid out of the bed, gripping the bed post until her legs were strong enough to support her. Hoggle made to stop her, but Sarah shrugged off his protests, determined to prove that she was fine. She took one step, and then another, before the spinning sensation in her head took over and she swayed where she stood. Sarah would have fallen over if strong arms hadn't chosen that very moment to appear and steady her. Sarah looked up to see Jareth's concerned face.

"Hedgewart, I thought I told you that Sarah wasn't to exert herself."

"Yeh try tellin' her that yourself."

Sarah saw Jareth's lips twitch ever-so-slightly as she accepted his help back into his bed. She tried not to let her disappointment show, but her mind's voice was all too astute: _this isn't exactly how you dreamed of him taking you to his bed, hmm?_

_No,_ Sarah told the voice, _it wasn't like this at all._ Hoping none of what she thought showed on her face, Sarah thanked Jareth with a weary smile.

Jareth looked at her for a moment, appearing to assess something and then asked, "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," she repeated. Jareth raised his eyebrows in apparent disbelief. "I'm just a little tired," Sarah conceded.

"That's to be expected. I didn't have a chance to warn you, but because you have never used magic before today, your use of magic this morning completely exhausted your energy reserves. A few days of rest and I suspect that you'll be as good as new." The matter-of-factness of his own words surprised Jareth, but not as much as Sarah's next words did.

Sarah eyed his coverlet briefly as she asked, "Would you mind teaching me to use my magic, so this doesn't happen again?"

Somewhat taken aback, Jareth bowed his head quickly and said, "I'd be honored." He flashed Sarah a quick smile, which she instantly returned, and then turned and sat in the seat facing Hoggle. The light from the sunset was fading, and the orbs hovering near the ceiling were steadily brightening, but the way in which they shone cast Jareth into shadow, for which Jareth was grateful: he didn't want anyone to see how exhausted he was.

The silence that descended upon the trio of them was broken suddenly by the simultaneous rumblings of Sarah's, Jareth's, and Hoggle's bellies. Sarah made to laugh, but then a knock sounded on the door and Mrs. Chartha entered bearing a tray of something that smelled positively delightful. She strode in purposefully and placed the tray on a side table, before giving a small curtsy to Jareth.

"Thank you, Mrs. Chartha; your perception and acuity have amazed me once more," said Jareth, a small smile brightening his face.

Mrs. Chartha nodded at Jareth. "Best eat it while it's 'ot." And without another word, she turned and exited the room, closing the door with an almost inaudible thump. Jareth stood up to investigate the tray and found a large tureen of a rich, hearty chicken soup, and three bowls and spoons. _That woman doesn't miss a thing_, Jareth thought to himself, before ladling soup into the three bowls and handing one each to Sarah and Hoggle before returning to his seat with his own bowl of steaming, savory soup.

The three ate in companionable silence, the sound of spoons scraping the bottoms of their bowls the only noise in the room. When all three had finished their meal, and the silence had gone on long enough, Hoggle set his bowl aside and bluntly demanded, "Will one of you two tell me what the devil happened to mire us in this state? And why does Sarah have magic?"

Sarah had to admire Hoggle's bravado; she looked at Jareth, seeing if he would answer, and Jareth looked at Sarah, seeing if she would answer. They both began speaking at the same time, and then both stopped out of courtesy to the other. Jareth gestured for Sarah to continue and she explained, "I was wished away to the goblins as a little girl. I spent time in the Labyrinth then, and Jareth gave me magic during that time before sending me home. I didn't remember it until last night, when I had a particularly vivid dream about it. In the morning, I found out that it wasn't just a dream and that I did have magic, and I wanted to know why the Labyrinth let me use my magic when it didn't let Jareth use his."

Jareth leaned forward in his chair, ready to hear the solution Sarah had discovered.

"Jareth was the last person to solve the Labyrinth before me, and Jareth was the last person to rule the Labyrinth…before me."

"What?" Hoggle asked, confusion wrinkling his gnarled face.

"The Labyrinth let me solve it, just like it let Jareth solve it all those years ago. It chose him then to rule over it, just as it has chosen me now. The Labyrinth obeys me."

Silence greeted Sarah's declaration; Jareth sat back in his chair, a pensive look on his face. _I can't believe it was that simple, and yet it makes perfect sense_, Jareth thought. Sarah waited for Jareth to say something, to either confirm or reject her conclusion, but it was Hoggle who spoke first.

"Sometimes the way forward is also the way back."

It took Sarah a few moments to remember, to realize what he was talking about, but then understanding dawned. "_Yes_," she said. "If I hadn't had that dream about my childhood, if I hadn't remembered it, I never would have figured it out. The Labyrinth has interfered with my thoughts before; perhaps it sent me that dream to help me realize what it wanted."

Jareth nodded his head lightly, agreeing with Sarah's postulation, all the while wondering: _why did I have the same dream? What purpose did it serve? Why would the Labyrinth wish to communicate with me at all?_ He was startled out of his reverie as Sarah gasped and put a hand to her mouth.

"That's why I dreamt of the Labyrinth while I was in Paraguay! The Labyrinth was calling to me, making me pine for it as it pined for me." She shook her head in disbelief. "Every night I dreamed of this place, wanting more than anything to be able to come here again, even if only for a moment. I lost interest in so many things; the Labyrinth consumed my thoughts. It consumed _me_. And now I know why."

Jareth repressed a revelatory gasp such as the one Sarah just let out as he realized that Sarah's prior emaciated appearance probably stemmed from what she had just described. He knew a thing or two about being consumed by dreams; why hadn't he recognized the signs then?

"Para-what?" asked a confused Hoggle.

Sarah gave him a small smile. "Paraguay. It's a country in the Aboveground." She turned to face Jareth. "Say something, Jareth, please."

Jareth cleared his throat. "It makes perfect sense. That's why the Labyrinth wouldn't obey me – it chose to only listen to you. That's why the Labyrinth didn't want to let you go on our first foray – the Labyrinth chose you, it wanted you, and it fought to keep you. You were right," he added, "the Labyrinth _did_ want you."

A pensive expression wrinkled Sarah's forehead. "It chose to only listen to me," she repeated. "Yes. That's why when I told it that I would come back to it, that I wouldn't abandon it, it listened, and let me go. That's all I did that second day, and every day after; I simply spoke to the Labyrinth in my mind. I thought I was being daft at the time, but it worked, and now I see why."

"And now that you've figured out what the Labyrinth wants, the Labyrinth is happy; it has returned to its former state, excepting the darkness which still persists in the east. The Labyrinth has been improving ever since you came; you've been helping all along simply by being here." Jareth tried to speak brightly, but he couldn't help feeling rejected. _Rejected by a pile of stones and moss. That's one of the most depressing things I've ever heard of. _Jareth brushed the melancholy aside and tried to think of something positive. It didn't take him long. _If the Labyrinth chose Sarah to rule it, and she accepts, she'll stay here in the Underground. She'll stay here; I'll see her every day, for as long as she chooses to rule. If she does choose to rule, there are ways of seeking immortality. But could I bear it, to see her every day, to speak with her, to have her so near, but to be so far from her heart? Could my heart bear it?_

Something in Jareth's face told Sarah that he was saddened somehow, and she immediately found a reason why. _I've just dethroned him. He's given the Labyrinth a thousand years' good and loyal service, and it suddenly casts him out one day in favor of me, the one person who's ever beaten him at his game. That would depress me as well. _

"Of course," Jareth said, matter of factly, "You needn't decide this very moment to accept or decline the Labyrinth's offer. Take as much time as you need."

Hoggle snorted. "A ruddy lot of time that will be too; choosin' to rule a country or not."

_Rule a country?_ Sarah's thoughts came dangerously close to panic. _I can't rule a country! I'm just a girl, from a different world. How can I rule a country in a world I know nothing about? It's absurd! _But then the voice of reason kicked in, or perhaps it was simply her heart telling her what she wanted. _If you accepted, you could stay here, for as long as you like. You love it here. If you missed your family, you could go home for a visit anytime you liked – Jareth can venture Aboveground, why not you? If you accept, you get to stay with Jareth. _But as happy as that thought made her, its joy was shadowed by her following one: _but if I accept, I will dethrone Jareth. Surely he will still be the Goblin King, and he'll still rule the Goblin City, but I would rule around him, completely encircling him, cutting him off from his lands and his subjects. If I decline, maybe I can convince the Labyrinth to let him rule again – surely I could do that. But then I would have to leave. How could I leave this place? But how can I stay?_

Hoggle looked from Jareth to Sarah, and then from Sarah to Jareth, a confused frown wrinkling his brow. "So yeh've fixed the Labyrinth. Isn't that a good thing?"

Both Sarah and Jareth were startled out of their melancholic reveries and hastily replied in the affirmative. Sarah nodded her head vigorously, a tad too vigorously to be convincing, before asking "Is it really fixed? Is the Labyrinth back to normal?" Sarah hadn't seen the Labyrinth since she'd made her discovery earlier that day.

"It is," Jareth answered. "All but the darkness has returned to normal. Better than normal, truth be told."

"I want to see it." Sarah set her bowl on the bedside table and slid off of Jareth's bed. Instead of trying to prevent her from moving, Jareth leant her his arm for support and guided her to the window. Suddenly, the whole of the Labyrinth came into view, lit by a faint, rosy light as the sun dipped below the horizon. In this light, the darkness was nearly impossible to see, and it was easy to pretend that it didn't exist at all. The highest part of the sky was turning a deep, midnight blue, and Sarah could just see the barest hint of the stars that would soon shine brightly down upon them. It was the first time she'd seen the stars in the Underground, and Sarah's breath caught in her throat as she whispered, "It's beautiful."

"It is," Jareth said, his eyes firmly fixed on Sarah. Jareth would never have taken his eyes off of her had not the sound of Hoggle's footsteps startled him out of his daze. Searching for something innocuous to say, Jareth settled on, "I've drafted orders to allow all citizens to return to their homes within the Labyrinth, excepting those who resided in the eastern sector. Now that I know what caused this positive change in the Labyrinth, I think it is safe put those orders to immediate effect."

Sarah nodded, still gazing at what she could see of the Labyrinth in the fading light. Never had she felt more at home, never had she felt more wanted, and loved than she did now. _The Labyrinth wants me; I am wanted_. The happiness that thought brought her was almost dizzying, and Sarah gripped Jareth's arm tighter for support.

Jareth felt her hands tighten around his arm, and felt a corresponding tightness in his chest. _Oh, you precious thing,_ he thought_, you have no idea what you do to me._ Ever so casually, Jareth removed his arm from her grasp and instead placed it around her waist, drawing her lightly against him. The tightness in his chest intensified and spread to an area just below his waist as Sarah shifted and the full softness of her body pressed against him.

Neither Sarah nor Jareth moved from that position when Hoggle cleared his throat and bid them a goodnight, a strangely determined expression on his face. Sarah barely had the time to wish him a goodnight before he was gone, leaving Sarah and Jareth completely alone, together. Sarah looked behind her at the door through which Hoggle had just disappeared before returning her gaze to the night sky before her.

"I haven't thanked you yet," Sarah said, still looking forward.

Jareth looked down at her, scrutinizing her profile in the moonlight. "Thanked me? For what?"

"For carrying me all the way here. For taking care of me. For not getting angry at me, especially after how I treated you-" Jareth shook his head and made to cut her off, but Sarah kept talking. "No, let me get this out. I was so angry before; I just wanted to lash out, but you were the only one that was there." Sarah turned to look at him, meeting his eyes. "I wasn't angry at you, Jareth." Sarah swallowed the lump forming in her throat as she turned forward once more and said, "I was angry at my mother." Jareth's arm tightened around her waist, but he said nothing, and Sarah continued, glad of his silent support. "I was angry at my mother; it just took me a while to figure it out. I think I've been angry at her all my life, only I never realized it, and I lashed out at everyone around me. I threw tantrums, I fought constantly with my stepmother, I wished Toby away…I wasn't angry at any of them. I just felt so hurt, so alone, so…abandoned…and I dealt with those emotions the only way I knew how – by getting mad, like I did this morning. I'm sorry for what I said to you, for how I yelled at you – I'm just…sorry."

"Don't be," Jareth said. "Don't be sorry, Sarah. You've nothing to be sorry about."

Sarah leaned into Jareth again and tilted her head up towards him. "Thank you for being you, Jareth."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything at all. He simply held Sarah close to him and together they watched the moon rise and the stars come out. Jareth risked a glance down at Sarah's face and saw her thoughtful, pensive expression. "What are you thinking about?"

"The Labyrinth," was Sarah's straightforward response. "And me. The first time I went into the Labyrinth, and especially when I tried to leave it that first time, it reacted so violently, like it was throwing a tantrum. And then there were all those emotions that came over me – anger, depression, that sense of abandonment – it's exactly how I felt growing up. Alone. I rebelled when I felt that way; maybe that's what the Labyrinth was doing. Maybe that's what the problem was." Sarah turned to look at Jareth. "It felt abandoned because I wasn't here, just like I felt abandoned by my mother, and it rebelled against the one person left to take care of it – you." Despite herself, a smile tugged at Sarah's lips as she concluded, "It wasn't fair to you, Jareth."

Despite the truth, the sad truth of her observation, Jareth smiled as well. "You say that so often, I-"

"Wonder what my basis for comparison is?" Sarah supplied with a grin, before her face split open into a gaping yawn. She covered it quickly with an apologetic hand.

"It's late; you should probably rest now; you must still be exhausted." Jareth started to steer her back inside, but Sarah protested.

"You must be more exhausted than I am – you carried me for hours, and then you've been going non-stop since then. If anyone needs rest, it's you Jareth." They arrived at his bed, and he tried to help her back into it, but she again protested. "No. I'm not going to lie down until you do."

"I'll be sitting right here; that will be rest enough-"

"No," Sarah interrupted. "You need to lie down. This bed I gigantic; I see no reason why you can't sleep on the opposite side." Sarah saw his hesitation and leapt upon it, "I promise, I'll stay on my side; your virtue will remain intact."

Jareth couldn't help but grin at that, but then asked seriously, "You are sure you wouldn't mind?"

Sarah shook her head, and Jareth finally nodded. "Very well then; you have persuaded me." This time, Sarah accepted Jareth's help back into his bed, and lay back under the coverlet as he walked around to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers, taking care to remove his boots first. A companionable silence fell over the both of them.

Sarah's thoughts returned to what she said earlier, about the Labyrinth feeling abandoned. It made sense – it explained why the Labyrinth wouldn't obey Jareth, and why it became dull and dark and lifeless. _It felt the same way I felt. Who'd have ever thought I'd have so much in common with an inanimate, magical being?_ Sarah felt a deep kinship with the Labyrinth, and it only made her desire to remain in the Underground stronger. _How can I abandon it again? I can't leave the Underground. But I don't want to dethrone Jareth; he's suffered enough as it is._ _So what do I do?!_ Wanting to forget that dilemma, Sarah turned to Jareth. She could just make out the profile of his face in the moonlight, but she couldn't tell if he was still awake.

"Jareth?" she called out softly.

"Hmm?" He asked, not asleep in the slightest.

Sarah extended her hand across the bed, and Jareth took it. She tried not to jump as a jolt of electricity struck her: Jareth had removed his gloves. The touch of his hand was both soothing and exciting, and Sarah tried not to stammer as she made her request. "Would you sing to me?"

Jareth squeezed her hand, reveling in the feel of her skin on his, and nodded. Leaning back against his pillows, he sang the only song he could think of at that moment. "_There's such a sad love, deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel, open and close within your eyes…"_

Sarah let his voice sweep over her, bringing her back to a swaying, floating world high in the air. Then she had found his voice alluring and sensual, and now, she felt the same, but she added beautiful to her list of descriptors. Jareth's voice was _beautiful._

As Jareth neared the end of his song, he felt Sarah's grip slacken in his, and realized that she was almost asleep. He lowered his voice to the level of a lullaby and ended the song. Silence descended upon them, broken only by the sound of Sarah's even breathing.

Sarah was nearing sleep, but as she spiraled down the path to her dreams, one nagging question surfaced and she stayed awake long enough to ask Jareth, "Why did you let me go when I was a child? Why did you bend the rules for me?"

Jareth took his time in formulating a response, and by the time he had one, he knew she'd long since succumbed to sleep. Although she couldn't hear him, he answered anyway. "I had to. I had to let you go then, so I could have you now. I had to because I loved you. Because I love you."


	21. Chapter 21

_AN: Another peace offering. Thank you for all your lovely reviews! If it's not too much to ask, I'd love some more! D_

Morning light skimmed over Sarah's face as the day dawned bright, crisp, and clear. Sarah softly turned onto her side to look out the window and nearly swallowed her heart when she realized that Jareth was sleeping a mere three or four feet away. Forgetting all thought of the window and the Labyrinth beyond, Sarah lost herself in the sight of Jareth, asleep. He was flat on his back with one arm up, tucked beneath his head of wild, golden hair. His other arm was by his side under the covers, and Sarah suppressed a sigh of frustration. Last night, she distinctly remembered the feel of his bare hands on hers, but as hidden as they were now, she couldn't see them. _But there's plenty more to look at as it is_, Sarah's mental voice told her, and for once, Sarah agreed.

Her eyes traced Jareth's tranquil face, his brow smooth and untroubled for once. With the dark blue coverlet pulled up almost to his chin, Sarah could only see the suggestion of his lean form, but with very little detail, all the way down to his feet. A small smile flickered on her lips as she saw that Jareth slept with one foot under the covers, and one foot above. Returning her eyes to his face, Sarah extended one hand and traced the skin of his brow and his cheek with her fingertips. _I could wake up like this every day_, Sarah realized. She was just about to see if his lips felt as soft as they looked, when the door to Jareth's chamber opened and Mrs. Chartha entered bearing a tray capped with a gleaming silver dome.

Sarah removed her hand immediately from Jareth's face and brought it to her own, raising a finger to her lips. Mrs. Chartha looked from Sarah's insistent face to Jareth, and comprehension dawned. She quietly deposited the tray on the table near the fireplace and collected their tray from the night before. Giving a small nod to Sarah, Mrs. Chartha left the room, shutting the door silently behind her. If she thought anything of Sarah sharing Jareth's bed, it was only betrayed by the barest hint of a grin that Sarah could have sworn she saw Mrs. Chartha give her as the exited the room.

Sarah turned back to Jareth, pleased to see that he was still sleeping as peacefully as before. She had half a mind to lie back down beside him, to mold herself to his side and never get up again, but she couldn't. Not right now. Not until she had a bath.

The truth was that Sarah hadn't bathed since the morning before her escapade into the darkness, and after all the excitement, exertion, and –quite frankly – sweat that had occurred since then…well, Sarah needed a bath. She was too grimy to continue sleeping in Jareth's clean bed. Slowly, Sarah slid her legs over the side of the bed and placed her feet firmly on the stone floor. No spinning sensation overcame her as she stood, and Sarah took that as a positive sign as she made her way to Jareth's bathroom. She could have used her own bathroom, she supposed, but one look over her shoulder at the still-sleeping Jareth made it nearly impossible for Sarah to stray so far from him. Besides, she wanted to see what his lavatory looked like.

Like hers, Sarah discovered. Jareth's bathroom was almost the mirror of hers, save that the cut of the stone was a bit more masculine, and the fact that her things weren't strewn about here and there. _I can change that_, Sarah said to herself, and began to undress, leaving her bra on the washstand near Jareth's sink. Making her way to the tub on the far side of the room, Sarah turned the silver taps and filled the porcelain, claw-footed tub with steaming water. Unable to wait for the tub to fill, Sarah divested herself of the rest of her clothes and sank into the water, letting its warmth rise and encircle her.

Back in the room, Jareth stretched, the aching in his arms causing him to bite back a long groan. He winced as the sun met his eyes and stumbled from the bed, noting that he was fully dressed but unable to remember why. A silver-domed tray on the table caught his attention momentarily. _That's odd. Normally I'm awake by the time Mrs. Chartha comes. I must have slept right through her visit this morning; that's never happened before. I must have been more tired than I thought, though I can't remember why._ Jareth yawned, and made his way over to the bathroom.

Once inside, he stood in front of his sink and splashed some cold water on his face. The cold water dripped from his face drop by drop as he stilled, his eyes fixed on his washstand. _That isn't a towel_, Jareth thought. Reaching out a hand, Jareth picked up the undergarment and raised it to eye-level. _Definitely _not_ a towel_. There was the sound of a throat being cleared behind him, and Jareth turned to face its source, immediately dropping the bra as if it had scalded him.

On the far side of the room, Sarah sat in his tub, her knees drawn up to her chest and her hair cascading down her back in raven rivulets. She was naked. The sight of so much of Sarah temporarily stole Jareth's breath and all conscious thought, before her slightly-amused eyes brought him back to the present.

"I'm sorry," he managed to say. "I forgot myself; excuse me." He couldn't leave the room fast enough. Closing the door behind him, Jareth leaned back against the door, cursing himself silently. The memory of all that happened last night came back to him, and he berated himself. _Idiot! How could you forget she was still here?_ Jareth shook his head and moved away from the door. What he wouldn't have given to wake up in bed with her next to him. But that was neither here nor there now. Sarah was here now, or rather, Sarah was there now, in his bathroom, which presented a slight problem as he needed to relieve himself. Seeking an alternative solution, Jareth magicked himself next door and used her facilities, before returning to his chamber and changing into a fresh set of clothing.

By the time Sarah emerged from his bathroom, wearing the same nightshirt she'd slept in, Jareth had moved the table outside onto his balcony and had set two place settings. Sarah set the towel down she'd been using to dry her hair, and made her way to the balcony. Jareth greeted her with a bright smile which she returned as she sat down at the table.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked, pouring her a goblet of orange juice.

"Very well, thank you, Jareth. And you?"

"The same." Jareth sat down on the other side of the table and placed his napkin in his lap. He was trying his hardest not to look down the loose collar of her shirt, wanting at all costs not to remember what she looked like in his tub for fear that his thoughts might show on his face, or anywhere else for that matter. They made small talk as they tucked into their breakfast. As they neared the end of the meal, Sarah made up her mind to tell him what she had decided.

"I've made a decision about the Labyrinth," Sarah told him. Jareth stilled, noting how serious she had become, and prepared himself for the worst, although he was unsure which would be worse: her decision to go, or her decision to stay.

"Well, it's not much of a decision," Sarah conceded, fiddling with her napkin. "The Labyrinth is back to normal, but the darkness persists. I haven't finished what I set out to do by coming here, and there is no way I'm going to leave until that happens, until we get rid of the darkness. When that happens, I will decide whether or not to stay and rule the Labyrinth. Like I said, it's not much of a decision, but at least it gives me some time for you to teach me how to use the magic you gave me." Sarah attempted a small smile at her weak conclusion.

Jareth tried not to let his relief show too much. She was going to stay, for the time being, until the darkness was vanquished, and who knew how long that might take? _She's going to stay_, he repeated to himself. Up until now, he hadn't known how badly he wanted her to stay, but now that he knew she wasn't going anywhere for a while, he felt like he could fly. Sarah was waiting for him to say something, and he said the first thing he could think of: "Thank you. You've no idea how much that means to me."

Several emotions mingled on Sarah's face, and Jareth thought he saw confusion, and maybe something else, but he wasn't sure. Thinking he might have revealed too much of what he felt, Jareth moved their conversation into the safe realm of stately affairs. "I'd like to allow all the citizens currently residing in the great hall to return to their homes in the Labyrinth, following a brief expedition by able-bodied persons into the Labyrinth to ascertain whether or not conditions are safe enough for habitation. What do you think?"

_Why does he sound like he's asking me permission_, Sarah wondered. And then it came to her: _I may not have decided to rule the Labyrinth yet, but the fact remains that I am the one person we know that the Labyrinth will obey._ "That sounds perfectly logical to me," she told him. "I'm sure the dwarves downstairs are anxious to return home. Perhaps they might like a festival of sorts to celebrate the good news…?"

"That's a great idea. Now that most of the Labyrinth is safe once more, we have access to our crops and pastures. If I sent men out today, they could gather enough food for a feast at the end of the week." Jareth lapsed into thought for a moment before continuing. "Yes, that's a wonderful idea. Once I'm sure that the Labyrinth is indeed safe, I'll make the announcement. My people have had precious little to celebrate in the past months; this will be most welcome."

Sarah tried not to show how pleased she was that he'd taken so well to her suggestion, and asked, "Will you be a part of this expedition into the Labyrinth today?"

"Yes. I've made arrangements with my advisory council to do so as soon as possible. I'm sure that the Labyrinth is indeed safe, but I want to be absolutely certain. It shouldn't take us long, and when we return, I'll address everyone together."

"We? Who are you taking with you?" Did Jareth want Sarah to accompany him? Sarah wasn't sure if she was up to traipsing around the Labyrinth today, although she'd do her best if he asked her to.

"I thought I might ask your friends to accompany me. I would like for you to come, but as newly recovered as you are, I'm afraid you might overtax yourself."

"I can stay with Clara while you four are gone. I haven't spent much time with her lately."

And so it was that Sarah, attired in her own clothing for once, waved goodbye to an eager Sir Didymus, a friendly Ludo, and a disgruntled Hoggle. She waved goodbye to Jareth as well, gracing him with a warm smile as he left. Clara and Sarah talked over a pot of tea as Gerry went outside to play with the other children.

Something seemed different about Clara today, although Sarah couldn't figure out exactly what the difference was. She just seemed…happy. Incandescently happy. _Well, she should be, _Sarah told herself. _After all, she is in love. That's why Hoggle looked so grumpy when he left – he didn't want to leave at all!_ After a few hours with Clara, her bright mood rubbed off on Sarah, and Sarah found herself laughing hysterically at Clara's anecdotes about Hoggle.

Suddenly, Sarah became aware of a shift in the giant room. There was a hush, and Sarah turned to see Jareth standing on a hastily-erected dais, preparing to address the crowds surrounding him. His announcement was brief and to the point. "It is my great pleasure to announce that the Northern, Western, and Southern sectors of the Labyrinth are now safe enough for habitation. You may return to you homes at your earliest convenience. In a sennight, there will be a grand feast in this great hall in celebration of this most welcome news."

Cheers met Jareth's announcement, and the crowds buzzed into activity. All around her, Sarah could see dwarves assembling their belongings, excitedly beginning to pack, their eagerness to return to their homes obvious. Clara, however, didn't move from her chair.

"Would you like me to help you pack," Sarah offered.

"Thank you, but no. I'm not going anywhere at present." Seeing Sarah's confused expression, Clara elaborated, with the air of one who has been bursting to tell a secret all day. "I'm staying with Hoggle," she said. Sarah continued to stare at Clara, comprehension just barely beginning to take root in her mind. With glowing eyes and a beaming smile, Clara told Sarah, "Hoggle asked me to marry him."


End file.
